


What We Do

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-10
Updated: 2011-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-30 10:25:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 67,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15094775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Once Donna returns from Germany, she and Josh explore a relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

I’ve been so busy today that I didn’t see her approach my desk until it was too late. “Donna, hello.”

When I looked up, my face must have shown my surprise. I mean, I haven’t seen her, or even heard her name, since last October. She left the First Lady’s office, and then there was the whole Carrick mess, then the shutdown, and then…Gaza. This was the last thing I expected, or hoped for, on a typical Wednesday. Of course, the look on my face betrays my emotions. “Amy. How are you?”

Amy looks me over and gives a plastic smile. “Donna, I was so sorry to hear about your accident. I see you’re still not up to par,” she says triumphantly, glancing at the walker in the corner of my cubicle.

“Actually, I’m doing much better, thanks for asking. That’s just here for the occasional bad day,” I have to grit my teeth to smile back. I hate that I still have to use that walker, and probably will for a few more months. I hate the fact that Josh and I have all but stopped our walk and talks. I hate that I have three scars on my right leg where bone has torn through skin. But mostly, I hate that Amy is here in front of me on a perfectly good Wednesday rubbing it all in.

“You’ve been back a while then?”

“This is my first week back in the office, but I’ve been home from the hospital for six weeks.”

“Germany must have been a nightmare. I know Josh was lost without you at your desk.” Oh, Amy. You’ve made a tactical error. You want me to think you’ve spoken with Josh. We both know that’s not true.

“Germany wasn’t that bad, not with Josh and my mom both there.” Score one for Moss. The look in her eyes right now is priceless; suddenly I’m not so upset that she’s here. Of course, I don’t mention that Josh was only there for the first week. Omission is not a lie. This is getting fun. She’s trying to recover. I could save her by saying something else, but I’m just going to let her suffer. 

“Well, you know Josh. He likes to be the hero.” That must have killed her. “There’s nothing men like more than a damsel in distress. It gives them the chance to be brave.”

“Brave, Josh? You should have seen him squirm around the needles. It was a sight to see.”

She laughs. Damn it. Score one for Gardner. “So, he was pretty much useless, huh?”

With my best nonchalant voice, I say, “He didn’t have to do anything to be helpful. He hates hospitals, but he was there; that alone was helpful. He takes care of me; I take care of him. That’s what we do.” Score one for Moss. She wants to throw my walker across the room, I can tell.

“So, your first week back in the office. Are you catching up ok?” 

“Just fine, thanks. Actually, I’ve been working from home for a few weeks. Josh isn’t very good with temps.” In other words, Josh can’t really live without me. 

“He made you work while you were recovering? I bet the messenger service was going crazy bringing things to you.”

“No, Josh brought me work when he finished in the office each night, but I think he just did it so he’d have an excuse to check up on me. He might like being a hero, but he doesn’t want anyone to know it.” By the look on her face, I’d say I just scored again. 

“Hey Donna, I need that memo…Amy. What are you doing here?” Finally, where has he been? I’ve been stuck out here with his witch of an ex for at least three minutes. It’s felt like an eternity.

“Hey J. How are you?” 

“Busy.” Hi honey, I’ve missed you for the last 10 months.

I’ll give her this. She doesn’t even flinch at his tone or dismissal of her. “I need a few minutes.” 

“No. I have a meeting to go to on the Hill. Speaking of which, Donna, I need the memo.”

I hand it to him. “His aide called. He needs to postpone for ten minutes. He’s stuck in traffic and will be ten minutes late getting back to his office.” 

“Good, then you can meet with me for ten minutes,” says Amy, as though she’s won. 

“Donna, do I have anything I need to do before I go?” He’s pleading with me. I can see it in his eyes. I could come up with something, but she’d just come back. Let’s get it done.

“No. You can meet with Amy.” His eyes are bugging out of his head.

“Fine. You get five minutes. Wait in my office.” She walks into his office, purposely brushing against him on her way. I know the move; I’ve used it on numerous occasions, although never with Josh. He leans back to get out of her way. Apparently, he knows the move as well. 

His back is to her, but I can see her standing in the doorway, watching us. I look at Josh. “Do you need anything else?”

He leans in close and whispers. “Why didn’t you save me?”

I lean in a little closer, just because I can see steam coming from her ears, and whisper back. “It’s only five minutes. If you don’t finish it now, she’ll come back when you have more time.”

He sighs and turns around. Amy is still standing in his office door watching us. He keeps walking but turns his head to me. “Good point. Come and get me in five minutes. Not a second longer.” Then he walks past her, purposely avoiding brushing against her, and goes into his office.

**********

Ok, let’s think this through. When the five minutes is up, and I only plan on giving it about four, I have to get Josh out of the meeting from hell. These are my options:

Option A: I should call Josh on his intercom and tell him it’s time to go. We’ve been working with the intercom system for the last three days. He hasn’t learned to use it, but he has learned to answer it. The purpose, of course is to keep me off my feet as much as possible. The problem with this option is Amy. She knows that we aren’t intercom people. If I intercom him, she’ll know why.

Option B: I could use my walker to go in and tell him. This shows that I’m walking; I’m improving. It also shows that I’m still weak and that I need the walker more than I let on earlier.

Option C: I could use the cane that’s under my desk. I’m really only supposed to use it to get to the walker, but Josh’s office isn’t that far away. I could make it there and back. This shows that I’m really getting better. I could possibly black out from the pain when I finally get back here, but I could live with that. Of course, Josh might yell at me in front of her for pushing myself too hard, but I could play that off as Josh being overly protective, which he is.

Option D: I could try to walk to the office with no cane and no walker. I’d probably fall half way there and would then have to call for Josh to come out and help me up, whereas Amy would think I was absolutely pathetic, and quite frankly, she’d be right.

I think we’ll go with Option C. I like it. It says, ‘yes, I was injured in a major accident, but I’m getting better, and I’m strong willed, so leave me the hell alone, or I just might beat you over the head with my cane.’ Option C, good choice.

**********

Josh is looking down at the memo for his meeting with Hamilton when I hobble in on my cane. He’s obviously not paying much attention to Amy, who’s rambling on about incentives for companies with daycare centers on campus. 

“Josh, it’s been five minutes. You need to get going.” Amy looks at her watch. I think she’s on to me. I look her right in the eye and smile. When did this become war?

He mumbles what I think is ‘thank God’ under his breath and then without looking up, says, “Listen Amy, I told you when you came in here, I agree with your position. But I’ve never cut corners for you and I’m not starting now. If you want to get something done, go through the proper channels.” 

After shoving the file in his book bag, he stands up to leave and that’s when he sees me. “Donna, what the hell are you doing?” He looks like he’s about to jump over his desk to save me from falling. It’s kind of nice.

Ok, don’t panic. I knew this could happen. I give him pleading eyes, begging him to understand, and then I glance at Amy, who’s looking at me like I’m about to be busted for something. “Nothing, just telling you it’s time to go,” I say with my most innocent voice.

He looks at me, glances at Amy, then looks back at me. Work with me Josh. Hesitantly, he says, “Ok. Stay right there, I need to talk to you about something before I go.” 

“You’re going to be late.” Please don’t yell at me after she leaves.

“I still have five minutes, remember? Amy, you can see yourself out.” Score one for Lyman. I didn’t even know he was playing.

She tries to smile, but she doesn’t really do a good job of it. “Sure, no problem. I’ll see you soon.” She walks out of the office and turns to me. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Josh follows her to the door and waits till she’s out of sight before turning back to me. “What the hell are you doing without your walker?”

“Nothing. I just…I felt strong enough. It’s only fifteen feet, Josh.” I’m trying to sound like its no big deal, but the truth is, it is a big deal. It hurts really badly, and I knew it would, but it was worth it.

“You don’t have to act stronger than you are. You were in an explosion Donna,” he says as he walks into my cubicle and brings me my walker. 

“I know. I just…she acts so smug. She…”

“What?” 

I sigh. “She called me a damsel in distress.” He takes the cane and I prop myself up on my walker.

“Did she call herself the wicked witch of the east?”

I can’t help but laugh a little, picturing Amy on a broom with a black cape and pointy hat. “No.”

“Well, then. She obviously has no idea what she’s talking about. Why don’t you go rest in CJ’s office while I’m on the Hill? When I get back, we’ll finish up, order Chinese and pick it up on the way to your place.” 

“I don’t need to rest, Josh. I’m fine.” I start walking with Josh behind me carrying the cane.

“What if I said I need you to rest?”

“Josh…”

“Donna, I’ll feel better if you let me take care of you. So, in turn, you’ll be taking care of me.”

I stop and look up at him and he puts his hand on top of mine on the walker. He takes care of me and I take care of him. I smile. “And that’s what we do.”

He smiles back at me, showing me his dimples. “That’s what we’ll always do.”


	2. What We Do

Josh left me in CJ’s office with the research for the arts in education bill, my blue note cards, and a bottle of water. He also moved my walker to the other side of the room so I couldn’t get up and “get into trouble” as he put it. Hopefully the water doesn’t make me have to use the restroom, because I’m basically trapped on this couch.

He left for his meeting on the Hill with strict instructions that I be able to brief him when he returns so we can, and let me quote him again, “get the hell out of here at a decent hour for once in our lives.” I chose not to mention that he wasn’t leaving for said meeting until 6:30. I didn’t want to burst his bubble.

“Hey Donna,” CJ said as she walked in and saw that Josh had forced me to take over her office.

“Sorry CJ, I can’t seem to stop him.” This has happened for at least an hour all three days that I’ve been back to work. 

“That’s ok, what happened this time?” CJ’s been extremely nice to me since I made it back to the states. We both know why; we both choose not to mention it. And let me just say the conversation was not 100% her fault. I could have and should have handled it differently. I could have told her it was none of her business, I could have told her that I’d rather wait for the right guy than sleep with the wrong one, I could have said, ‘yes, I’m madly in love with my workaholic boss, what should I do?’ I could have chosen not to attack her relationship with that guy she was seeing. Instead, I chose to let it sit there for an hour and a half while the two of us sat in silence. 

“He freaked out because I used my cane to go to his office instead of my walker. What’re you working on?”

She looks up from her computer screen. “Nothing. I’m playing solitaire. I’ve been on the same game for three days. I can’t give it up. It’s a disorder I have.”

“I’ve never known you to have a disorder like that.”

“It’s new. I gave up an old disorder. This one’s replacing it.”

“I see.” I’ve missed these conversations with CJ, where we just hang out. The two of us sit there and talk about nothing at all for a few more minutes until she gives up her game for the night and leans back in her chair, looking up at the ceiling.

“So, why’d you use the cane instead of the walker?”

I think about the answer I want to give. I don’t, let me reiterate that, don’t want to discuss any personal feelings I may or may not have about Josh. Ok, fine, have. Still, CJ hates Amy as much as I do. We’ve discussed several times our opinion that Amy’s role in the sisterhood is as saboteur. Maybe she’ll understand. “Amy was here.”

“Gardner?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t she get permanently banned from the building?”

“I wish.”

“There’s got to be someone we can talk to about that.” She actually takes out her planner and makes a note. “What’d she want?”

“She wanted me to think that she and Josh have been seeing each other or at least talking again.”

This got CJ’s attention. She popped back up in her chair and looked at me. “You don’t thing she wants to…not again?”

“I don’t know. CJ…” I pause. CJ and I can’t get personal about Josh.

“What?”

“Can I say something? Something you might find appalling?”

“You’ve already mentioned Amy, how much more appalling can it get?”

I have to laugh; sometimes I forget I’m not the only one whose life was hell while Josh dated Amy. “Good point. Here goes. The only thing I can figure is…CJ, he must be absolutely incredible in bed. I can find no other explanation for it.”

She scrunches up her face, as if disgusted. “That is appalling.” She spends a full minute contemplating what I’ve said, then turns back to me. “Appalling, but correct. I think you’re right. There’s no other explanation.” We sit in silence for a minute. “Hmm…Josh Lyman, good in the sack, who’d of thought?” 

Me, but I’m not going to say that out loud. “It seems at odd with the universe, I know.” She and I both know she didn’t buy that, but we have to keep up pretenses.

“So, Amy was here, flaunting her non-existent relationship with Josh, and you didn’t want to look weak in front of her. Correct?”

“She called me a damsel in distress, CJ. I couldn’t let that go unanswered.”

“You were wise my friend. She’s like a tiger. She smells fear; she seeks out the weak. You had to defend yourself and your territory; you had no choice. What else did you do?”

“I made a point of mentioning that Josh was in Germany, but didn’t mention that it was only one of three weeks.”

“Omission is not a lie. The point is that he dropped everything and went.” See, sometimes she and I are so alike that it’s scary.

“That was my reasoning. I also told her that Josh brought me work at home every night once I got back so he could check up on me.”

“That’s not a lie at all, that is why he brought you work.” Ok, why isn’t CJ giving me the ‘you and Josh can’t date’ lecture? Here we are, discussing the very thing we never discuss, and she’s telling me I was right to fight for my territory. We’ll just overlook the fact that Josh isn’t technically my territory to fight for.

“I know, but I made a point of making sure she knew. Then, they had a short meeting and I had to go in and get him when it was time to leave. I used my cane instead of my walker.”

“So you got exiled to my office while he’s on the Hill?”

“Yes.”

“He’s just worried.”

“I know.”

She looks at me for a long moment. We’re talking a good thirty seconds. Then she gets up and closes her door. “I mean it Donna. He went into some sort of shock when I told him about the explosion. He couldn’t even speak. He didn’t ask anything about the explosion at all, he just whispered your name, like a question. When Andi called, all he cared about was whether you were ok, then he freaked out while we were waiting to meet with the President.”

“He worries about me; I worry about him. That’s what we do. It’s no big deal.” It’s actually a very big deal, and we both know it.

“Donna…” She’s waiting for me to reply, but I don’t want her to bring up what she’s about to bring up, so I just look down at my research.

“Donna…it occurs to me that when we were locked in here in May, I might have…”

“CJ…”

“It occurs to me that it might have sounded like I thought any feelings…of a…that I thought those feelings were one-sided.”

“CJ, we don’t need to talk about this. We shouldn’t talk about this.”

“I just want you to know that I didn’t think they were one-sided then, and I certainly don’t think that now.”

“Ok.”

“I just wanted you to know that.”

“Ok.”

“Of course, it’s none of my damn business anyway.”

I look up at her and smile. “Well, you’re a woman. We stick our noses into other people’s business; it’s what separates us from men. I did that too, you know.”

“I know. You were right.”

“You weren’t.” 

“I wasn’t? How can that be?” She laughs. I start laughing too.

“The one night stand thing.”

“Bad idea?”

“Have you ever had good sex that was bad?”

“Bad good sex?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.”

“When the act is good, but it’s bad because you want it to be with someone else, and you feel like your cheating the whole time, even though your not…”

“Bad good sex?”

“Yes, because you are cheating. Not on him, but on yourself.”

“So what do you do?”

“Well, if the guy’s hot and has a British accent, and you’re in another country where sex doesn’t count as real sex, you go ahead and suffer through the orgasm. Then, you wait till he goes to sleep, have a stiff drink and e-mail your boss.”

“I see.”

“That, my friend is bad good sex.”

“Well, like you said, it’s a foreign country, it can’t come back to bite you in the end.”

“Unless, of course, the bad good sex watches you blow up and flies to Germany to make sure you’re ok.”

“No?” She looks as shocked as I felt when Collin walked in that door.

“Oh, yes.”

“And so…”

“They met.”

“Wow.”

“Yes.”

“Well, that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“I thought for sure the two of you would be engaged by the time you got back here.”

I try to hide my shock at that statement. “That wouldn’t be very convenient for the administration, now would it?”

“The administration would deal.”

“Really?”

“Just put that in the back of your mind for anything that might come up in the future.”

“Uh, ok.”

“So you know what that means, don’t you?”

“What what means?”

“There’s no other explanation for a flight to Germany. You must be absolutely incredible in bed.”

“Well, that’s a given.”

“And if he’s incredible and you’re incredible…”

“Yes, I know.”


	3. What We Do

Well, that meeting was productive. Senator Hamilton saw the truth in my message. We discussed the nuances of the bill; I pointed out the positives, which greatly out weigh the negatives, and so forth. Basically, I got my way, so I’m pretty happy. 

Now, I must get back to the White House before Donna starts racing people through the west wing. She came hopping into my office earlier as if she didn’t nearly DIE in an explosion a mere ten weeks ago, as if her leg doesn’t have a METAL ROD going through it. And to go off topic for just a second, I feel the need to mention that she sets off the metal detector now when we come into the building. It’s pretty entertaining. Security was of course informed of her situation, but they still have to wand her down. I, being the sensitive man that I am, have refrained as much as possible from making fun of her for this. Not completely, but as much as possible.

So, anyway, I was understandably alarmed when I saw her standing, with only her cane, in the doorway to my office, which is at least what, a half mile from her desk? The cane is to be used the two steps it takes her to get to the walker and no more. I should know; I’ve spoken with the doctors. Repeatedly.

So naturally, I felt the need to calmly discuss with Donna what her doctors have been telling her about pushing herself. That’s why I started out by saying, “What the hell are you doing?” in that voice of mine that shows I mean business. You know; I yelled. But then I saw her face, and I don’t know how I knew, but I knew she didn’t want to have the conversation in front of Amy. Speaking of Amy, what the hell is she doing in the Capitol at 7:55 on a Wednesday night?

“Hello again J. How was your meeting?” 

“What are you doing here?” She didn’t follow me here, did she? I can see the headlines now. Deputy Chief of Staff Stalked By Psychotic Ex-Girlfriend.

“John asked me to stop by. He’s hoping we can start seeing each other again.”

Oh, yes. John Tandy. The one she dumped so she could make my life hell for a year. Why would he date her again, once he got rid of her? Oh, never mind. “Well, good luck with that.” I say as I practically run down the hall to get away from her.

“Wait. Where are you going?” Away from you.

“Back to the office.” I keep walking. Why is she following me?

“In a hurry?” Obviously.

“Yes. Donna’s waiting on me.”

“That’s her job, J.” I hate that. I absolutely hate the way she diminishes Donna. I stop and look at her.

“Actually, her job is to assist me, among other things, but you already know that.” 

“Of course. Donna’s amazing at her job,” she says sarcastically. “I’ve heard it all before. I’m just saying, she’s not going anywhere without you.”

“No she’s not, I’m her ride,” I say dismissively and start walking again.

“Her ride?”

Can’t you see I’m trying to get away from you? “Yes, her ride. You might not have noticed, but she’s injured. She can’t drive.”

“So you have to play chauffer?”

“No, I volunteered.” 

“And how long do you have to be at her beck and call?”

“As long as she needs me to be.” Forever, I hope. Sometimes I picture Donna and me, 80 years old, bickering over whose turn it is to get the paper off the front step, bantering about the lack of social security, me bringing her coffee, her calling for the take-out. I see the two of us forever, doing what it is we do; it’s comforting. 

“She’s no idiot, J.” Hmm, that’s the biggest compliment Amy’s ever given Donna. “She’s going to play the almost died card as long as she gets away with it. If you let her, she’ll always find a reason to need you.”

“Well then I guess we’ll be even. I’ve got to go. It was ni…bye.”

“Wait, my car’s at the White House. I’ll share a cab with you.”

What the hell? I stop, turn around and look directly in her eyes so she’s sure to get my message. “No.”

“No?”

“You heard me.” I turn and start walking again. There’s a cab at the bottom of the steps, so I jump in before I have to hear her bitch anymore and head off to the White House.

**********

CJ and I are still discussing sex when we hear Josh knock on the door at 8:25. She looks at me and laughs when he walks in, no doubt trying to, or maybe trying not to, picture him in bed. I, on the other hand, am quite used to picturing Josh in bed, so I come across un-phased.

“What’s so funny?” he asks me as he looks at her.

“We were just discussing what you must be like in bed.” This only makes CJ laugh harder. Josh looks, I don’t know, a cross between surprised, mortified, and intrigued.

“Really?”

I roll my eyes, you know, to keep up appearances. “No Josh, not really.”

“Oh.” Now the poor guy looks disappointed. “Because I’m quite something.” CJ laughs harder.

Again, I have to keep up appearances, so I say sarcastically, “I’m sure you are. How was your meeting?” 

“Great! Well…good anyway.” Something happened.

“What happened?”

“Nothing important. How about you? How are the arts in education?” CJ has somehow managed to calm down and is watching us now.

“Extremely under-funded.”

“Are you ready to brief me?” 

I look over at CJ and raise my eyebrows. She laughs again. “Yes, are we ready to go?”

“I checked in with Leo and got my messages from what’s her name. I’m ready if you are.” What’s her name is Louise. She was Josh’s temp while I was gone; now she’s an added addition to the operations staff. She’s kind of my assistant. I’m enjoying it.

“Ready. I’ll brief you over pizza.”

“Ok, let me grab our things. I’ll be right back for you,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks out of CJ’s office and heads down the hall.

As soon as he’s gone, CJ looks at me. “I can’t believe you told him what we were talking about!”

I smile. “I thought you’d like that. I do so enjoy making him wonder. You didn’t play it very cool though.” 

“I couldn’t speak. I was afraid I’d laugh again.” CJ and I are on the same page again; the awkwardness is gone. It’s fun being trapped in here with her.

“You did laugh again.”

 

“I know. Imagine how bad it would have been if I’d spoken. How do you play it so cool?”

“Years of practice.”

She nods. “Right.” 

Josh comes for me a few minutes later. Security lets him pull his car up to the entrance so I don’t have to walk so far, but it still takes a good 5-7 minutes to get me out of the building. Josh carries all of our things, complaining the whole time that real men don’t carry purses. 

On the way to my place I decide to ask again about the meeting. “Josh, what went wrong in the meeting?”

He looks over at me, confused. “Nothing. The meeting went great. He was no match for me intellectually, of course. After I explained the bill in great detail…”

“He got sick of you and finally gave in so you’d leave?” You know, of course, that I don’t mean that stuff. I just have to keep his ego in check.

“Very funny. You’re spending too much time with CJ.”

“That’s your fault.”

“I’m not the one running laps in the west wing.”

“Running laps? You might be exaggerating, just a bit. Now, what happened in the meeting? Back in CJ’s office, you hesitated.”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I just ran into Amy on my way out.”

“Gardner?”

“The one and only.”

“Thank God for that.” He laughs. “Why was she there?” 

“She was meeting with Tandy. Apparently he wants to start seeing her again.” 

“Why would someone want to date her twice?” He looks at me and I stifle a laugh. “Oh, sorry.”

“The second time wasn’t dating. It was…”

“Sex.” I’m still trying not to laugh.

“Yes.” See, to a man, that’s better. ‘I wouldn’t date that hussy; I’d just sleep with her.’ If a woman said that, she’d be a slut. 

“So, what’d she want?”

“What didn’t she want?”

“Gross! I meant tonight Josh!”

Oh, sorry.”

“Now I’m picturing…crude.” I mean really, I enjoy picturing him in bed, but not with her.

“Ok, ok, I said I was sorry.” He does look sorry, but I’m not quite ready to let him off the hook.

“You should be. That’s just… yuck! I could discuss sex with Jack. Would you enjoy that?”

“No. No. No. I prefer to think you didn’t have sex with him.”

“We dated for two months.” 

“Still.” 

“Fine. I won’t discuss him; you won’t discuss her. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“So, what’d she want? Tonight?”

“I don’t know. Just to bug me I guess.”

“She wanted you to tell her not to date Tandy.”

“She did?”

“Yes. She wanted you to tell her to come back to you instead.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m a woman.”

“Well Tandy can have her.”

“If he really wants her.”

“If he…you think she was lying?”

I try to sound shocked. “Amy? Never.”

“Cute.”

“Oh, I know.”

“So why was she there if she wasn’t really meeting with Tandy?”

“She followed you there.”

“She did?”

“Of course she did.”

“Why?”

“To feel out the situation. To see if you were harboring any feelings for her.”

“I think I nipped it.”

“Nipped it?”

“Nipped it. In the bud.”

“Nipped it in the bud?”

“It’s from Andy Griffith.”

“Ok. Whatever.”

“In Andy Griffith, Barney tells Andy he has to nip it; nip it in the bud.”

“I said ok.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Ok, got it. Did she say anything about how well I’m recovering?”

“What?”

“Amy.”

“Oh. I didn’t pay any attention to her.” Ok, what he actually said was ‘she said something alright, but I’m not about to tell you what it was, or you’ll commit murder tonight.’ Who does he think he’s talking to? I know him better than he knows himself.

“I see.”

“Don’t worry about her.”

“Josh. Amy hates me, I’m not going to let anything she says bother me.”

“Then why did you walk into my office on your cane today instead of your walker.”

“Well…”

“You were saying?”

“Ok, so she bothers me a little. I just…she acts so tough.”

“Tough? She wasn’t the only survivor of a car bomb ten weeks ago.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have anything to prove to her.”

“I know. She just thinks she’s so superior.”

“Amy or no Amy, you have to take care of yourself.”

“I know.”

We sit quietly for a few minutes, until I have to ask, “So, what’d she say about me?” 

“Donna…” He’s whining. I secretly love it, but I never tell him that.

“Damsel in distress?”

“No.”

“Come on. Tell me. We’ll laugh about it.” Please, please, please tell me what she said.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” He pauses and glances at me while he drives. Then he puts on his best nonchalant voice. “She said if I let you, you’d always need me.”

“Oh.” I don’t really know what to say to that, so I just stare out my window and it gets very quiet in the car.

After a good three minutes, when we’re stopped at the next light, Josh quietly and tentatively says, “I told her that makes us even.”

I slowly turn my head and look at him, and then I smile. I know I look like a sixteen year old who just got asked to the prom by the star quarterback, when in fact Josh is nothing like a quarterback and he hasn’t asked me out, but I don’t care. Because when he sees me smile, he smiles back, a big dopey smile, and I’m a sucker for those dimples.

Of course, after a few precious seconds, the light turns green, his smile turns to a smirk, and he adds, “She also said it’s your job to wait on me.”

“Hand and foot I presume.”

“Naturally.”

“Yeah, well don’t hold your breath.”


	4. What We Do

Josh and I have a thing. Yes, I know; Josh and I have many, many things, but the thing I’m talking about right now is the pout/dimple thing. It’s well known, but never discussed, that I am powerless against his dimples. It’s also well known, but never discussed, that he is powerless against my pout. We’ve both used it on occasion to get what we want, and no doubt, we’ll both use it again in the future. You know, now that I think about it, it’s a shame neither of us have ever used it to get the other into bed.

Anyway, there’s a point to my bringing up the pout/dimple thing, and this is it. Before Josh’s meeting, he said we’d order in Chinese tonight and work from my place. After his meeting, I told him I’d brief him over pizza. Well, we’ve just arrived at my apartment, and it won’t be long before the topic of dinner comes up. I want pizza. I’m in the mood for extra-cheese thin crust pizza. That’s the way pizza should be. To me, adding other toppings just ruins a perfect thing. It’s like adding sugar to strawberries; I don’t get it.

So what I’m saying is, if he’s got his heart set on Chinese, the pout might have to come into play tonight. I just want to warn you in advance. It’s underhanded and sneaky, but sometimes you do what you’ve got to do.

But…back to the story…it takes an indiscernible amount of time to get from Josh’s car up to my apartment. Actually, it takes about fifteen minutes. It’s quite an ordeal. First, Josh takes everything, including the walker, upstairs and unlocks the door. Then he comes back for me and the real humiliation begins. To get up the 30 steps, he has to hold my right leg in the air out in front of me while I scoot up each step on my butt, using my arms for leverage. Now trust me, in the seven weeks I’ve been home, we’ve tried countless ways to get me into my apartment, and this, as ridiculous as it sounds, is the quickest, easiest and least painful of all those ways. Josh doesn’t complain about this process at all. It’s very unlike him; the first few times I worried that he was sick or something, then I thought he was learning patience; now I think there’s a pretty good chance he’s looking up my skirt. 

“I’ll order the Chinese while you’re changing.” Ok, here goes.

“That’s fine,” I say with a small, but not obvious pout.

“Cashew chicken?”

“Hmm…”

“Donna, you always get cashew chicken.” He’s right. I get cashew chicken, he gets beef and broccoli, we get an order of crab Rangoon, and we share it all.

“I know, but I was thinking about something different tonight.”

“Something we both like, I hope.”

“Something cheesy.”

“Cheese in Chinese food?” Come on Josh; work with me here.

“I don’t know. I’m just in the mood for cheese. Gooey cheese.” I step up the pout one level. There are five levels to my pout. I’m on level two.

**********

She thinks I don’t know what’s going on here, but I do. I heard her in CJ’s office; she wants pizza. ‘I don’t know. I’m just in the mood for cheese.’ Yeah right. I know what she’s getting at. She wants me to suggest pizza. This is her reasoning: If I suggest pizza, then I think I’ve gotten what I want. That way, the next time we disagree, she can say, ‘but last time you wanted pizza and that’s what we got.’ Like I said, I know the game. I’m a master politician; hell, I invented the game. Does she really think I’ll fall for her tricks? I am a graduate of Harvard and Yale; I will not be played like a violin. I know exactly what I’m doing. This game is my game, and she can’t beat me at it. I stand before you today, telling you that we will be getting Chinese tonight. And by Chinese, I mean pizza; cheese, thin crust.

Here’s the thing; I’ve got a weapon. My weapon: dimples. She can’t resist them. She knows it, I know it, she knows I know it. When I flash the dimples, I’ve got her. But here’s the problem. She has a weapon too. Her weapon: the pout. I can’t resist it. I know it, she knows it, I know she knows it. When she pouts, she’s got me. So, in times like this, the winner is whoever uses their weapon first. And she’s using her weapon. Sure, if I flashed the dimples, I’d win, she couldn’t resist them; but her pout leaves me dimpleless. Once I see the pout, I want what she wants; it’s that simple. My stomach may want Chinese, but my heart wants pizza. I’ve lost.

“Gooey cheese, huh? Maybe we should get pizza tonight. We can get Chinese tomorrow.” See, I don’t completely lose; I’ve already put my order in for dinner with her tomorrow. I know; I’m very smooth like that.

“Pizza? Can we get thin crust with extra cheese?” She’s just bumped her pout up to level three. There are four pout levels; at least four that I’ve seen. There may be more, but if so, I’m done for. In the past, a level four pout has led me to things such as giving her an entire weekend off, taking her to the opera, helping her move, and being her date for a second cousin’s wedding. I even watched “Beaches” with her once. If there’s a level five pout, and she ever uses it on me, I could easily sign over my condo and give her my job. By the way, please don’t tell anyone about “Beaches.”

Don’t get me wrong. The dimples have come in handy through the years. I’ve gotten numerous late nights at the office, a few foot massages, the occasional third beer when we’re out with our friends, and a trip to New York to see the Met’s play. Once, when my mother was in town visiting, I even got Donna to take her out shopping for the entire day so I could watch football with Sam and Toby. She uses the pout; I use the dimples. It’s what we do.

Now don’t get me wrong. We use our weapons, and we use them well, but I wouldn’t call it manipulation, exactly. There’s a line we never cross. I never use my weapon to get her to break a date; she never used hers to get me to end things with Amy. Neither one of us has ever used our weapon to get the other to compromise our beliefs or do something they shouldn’t do. This is what separates my relationship with Donna from my relationship with other women I’ve dated. I don’t abuse the use of my weapon. Well, that and the fact that I’m…you know…not actually dating Donna. 

“Thin crust, extra cheese it is. I’ll order it, you change.” This earned me a smile. 

I order the pizza, which is really just a waste. I mean, pizza with no meat? What’s up with that? I’m tempted to demand meat on half, but she’s won this round. It’s best to just face it and move on. I will focus my energy elsewhere, on the after-dinner movie.

See, we’ve developed an after work routine. It started about two weeks after she got back from Germany, when her mom went back to Wisconsin. I’d bring work and dinner over every night. We’d work for a while and then watch a movie or TV. Yes, she’s back at the office now, but she can’t work more than 12 or so hours a day, so we’ve stuck with the routine. So, while Donna briefs me on arts in public education over pizza, I’m planning my attack. “Jaws” is on the movie channel tonight, and I intend to have my way. 

“Isn’t ‘Jaws’ scary?” 

“You’ve never seen ‘Jaws’?”

“Maybe when I was a kid, I don’t remember.”

“Well, you’re going to love it. It’s a classic.”

“Josh, ‘An Affair to Remember’ is a classic. ‘Gone With the Wind’ is a classic. I don’t think ‘Jaws’ can be considered a classic.” 

“No, it is. Really. Very few horror movies can be considered a classic, I admit. But ‘Psycho’ and ‘Jaws’ are the exceptions. Really.”

“I don’t know.” She looks skeptical. 

Here I go; I’m pulling out the weapon. I give her a half smirk, half smile, showing the dimples. “Donna, it’s a great movie. They even have a ride at Universal Studios about it. Would they make a ride out of a dud?” She smiles at me, I’ve almost got her.

“What if I get scared?”

I step it up to full smirk; we’re talking major dimple action. “Well, if you get scared, you can sit close to me and I’ll protect you.”

**********

Sucker. I love “Jaws.” I just want an excuse to cuddle with Josh. He’s all warm and soft, and…cuddly. And he has a great smell. He smells like aftershave and Irish Spring, suave and manly at the same time. When he goes out jogging, and you add in just a touch of sweat… Anyway, I’ve given Josh a chance to use his dimples, so he thinks he’s won. And I have to admit; ego Josh is very sexy.

Josh cleans up after dinner, which is possibly my favorite part about being incapacitated, and then we go to my room to watch the movie. Oh yes, you heard me right. My bedroom. See, I have to keep my leg elevated as much as possible, and the only way to do that on the couch is to lay down with my feet in Josh’s lap. The problem is that when I first got home, even the slightest movement from Josh caused me a lot of pain. So, we moved into the bedroom so I could prop my leg up with pillows and we’d both still have room to sit. My leg doesn’t hurt as much now, but I don’t want to mess with our routine. You don’t believe that, do you? I didn’t think so.

Anyway, we turn off the lights and watch “Jaws” from my bed. What? You can’t watch a scary movie with the lights on; it’s not natural. The first time we see the shark, I scoot a little closer to him. By the time the second attack has taken place, my left hand is on his right leg and his right arm is around my shoulder. Another half hour and we’re lying down curled up together on the bed with my head on his shoulder. Like I said, he’s all cuddly.

**********

I’m startled awake by thunder. The movie is over and there’s an infomercial on the television. Donna is next to me, asleep. I should get up and go home, but instead I just look at her. She’s on her left side, facing me, and I’m on my right, facing her. Her right arm is out in from of her and my left arm is out in front of me, and they’re overlapping each other, but other than that, we aren’t touching at all. The only light is from the TV, and it kind of dances around her face. I could just lie here and watch her all night. I know what you’re thinking, but it’s nothing sexual. It’s just…intimate. 

There’s a crack of lightening, and Donna opens her eyes. We just look at each other for a few seconds. “What time is it?”

I roll onto my back so I can look at the clock on her nightstand. “About 3, we must’ve fallen asleep.”

“I didn’t get to see the end.” She’s got this sleepy voice that makes her sound very innocent. It’s soft and a little higher than her normal voice. I heard it in Germany a lot; I’ve missed it.

“They kill the shark.”

She smiles and closes her eyes. “Ok.”

“I should get going.” 

I start to sit up, but Donna puts her hand on my chest to stop me. “Josh, you have to be back here in three and a half hours.” She scoots closer, nudging her head into the area between my arm and my body, and leaves her hand on my chest. “Just go to sleep,” she whispers.

I stare down at her for a minute, almost afraid to move. My right hand slowly closes around her and I lightly stroke her hair. I reach my left hand over to the nightstand, find the remote and turn off the TV. Then I cover her hand on my chest with my own, and pull her a little closer. As I’m drifting back to sleep, I can’t help thinking maybe we should add this to our routine.


	5. What We Do

Finally! I paged him two and a half minutes ago. I pick up the phone and say, “I have to have her.”

“What?”

“I have to have her,” I repeat. I should have probably started with something like…I don’t know, hello, but I just dropped Donna off at physical therapy and I’ve got to talk about this. Now. 

“Who?”

“Who? Who do you think, who?” 

“Donna?”

“Of course, Donna.” Who else?

“How is she?”

“She’s amazing,” I say like some fourteen year-old in love.

“No, I mean, how is she? After the accident?”

”Oh, she’s doing well. She hates physical therapy, of course, but that’s not why I called.”

“You have to have her.”

“I have to have her. I…we…we slept together last night.”

“What? This is…wow! Congratulations, I mean…wow!”

“Calm down, Sam. We slept together, we didn’t have sex.”

“What?”

“We fell asleep watching a movie.”

“Oh. Well that’s…not nearly as exciting.”

“Yes it is, Sam. You have no idea. When I woke up this morning, holding her, it was the most amazing moment of my life.”

“You were holding her?”

“We were holding each other. I can’t describe it in words. It was…everything.”

“And now you have to have her.”

“Yes. I mean, I’ve always wanted her, loved her; you know that. But now it’s different. It’s like…I don’t know how I ever woke up before. Like I can’t imagine ever waking up again, not without her. It’s like I breathed last night for the first time, and now I feel like I’m suffocating without her. Oh God, I sound like a buffoon.”

He chuckles at me. “No, you sound like a man in love.”

“I’ve been in love for years, why do I just sound like this now? Am I sick?”

“Do you have a fever?” 

“Come on, this is serious.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t do serious at five o’clock in the morning. I do confused at five o’clock in the morning.”

“I need you to focus; I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“I’m worried that when I see her next, I’m going to…I don’t know. Confess my love, drop to one knee, rip her clothes off and…you know.

“Would that be so bad?”

“Well, we’ll be in the White House the next time I see her, so…yeah. I don’t think it’s the place for sex.”

“I meant the confession part, not the ripping off her clothes part.”

“Right, of course. Still, confess my love at work?”

“Well, it’s certainly not ideal, but if it’s going to be one of the three options you listed above, that’s the one I’d go with.”

“You’re supposed to be helping!”

“You’re supposed to be calling after 7am my time. We have a deal.”

“This is an emergency!”

“This is not a 9-1-1 emergency. You 9-1-1’d me.”

“It is!”

“No, this is at best a 7-1-1 emergency. We’ve been through this before.”

“Seven? It’s at least an eight.”

“8-1-1 is a work or legal emergency. Personal emergencies are 7-1-1.”

“I know the rules, Sam.”

“Yet, you 9-1-1’d me.”

“Yes, because….”

“Yes?”

“Because…”

“You’re stalling.”

“You’re interrupting. Because…I could get fired for sleeping with my assistant, and CJ could kill me. That’s physical danger; 9-1-1.”

“You’re pushing the envelope there.”

“That’s what I do, now help.”

**********

It’s a glorious day! I get out of physical therapy where I pay a woman, or rather my worker’s compensation insurance pays a woman, who forces me to do what she calls exercises for my leg that hurt like hell. Margaret picks me up from the torture office in her car that has no air-conditioning, just what you want in mid-August, announcing that she needs to stop at the drugstore for tampons, where we ran into Cliff Calley. While walking away from him, after politely but uncomfortably answering questions about the accident, my walker gets caught on a rubber band of all things and begins working like most grocery store shopping carts. In the process of trying to get it unstuck, I run into a display of at least 500 Hershey’s candy bars, all of which fall on the floor. The 16 year old behind the counter feels the need to do a loud speaker price check on the tampons, which I’m sure is just a way for him and his pre-adolescent friends to get their kicks. We finally leave there and pick up lunch on the way back to the office, where I find that I’d been given poppy seed dressing instead of light Italian for my salad. Have you ever had poppy seed dressing? It’s not delicious. 

But like I said, it’s a glorious day! Why, you ask? How could a person who’s had the day described above be in the mood I’m in? One simple reason really: I woke up in the arms of Joshua Lyman. The earth could quake, the oceans could dry up, a satellite could fall from the sky, and it would still be a glorious day; because for the first time in my life, I woke up in the arms of the man I’m destined to spend my life with.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. We’ve known each other for seven years, traveled extensively together, slept in planes, busses, trains, and automobiles; we’ve never woken up in each other’s arms? No, we haven’t. Occasionally, I’ve woken up on his shoulder, or vice-versa, but never before have we slept wrapped up in each other the way we did last night. Oh, that’s not what you were thinking? You were thinking we had sex, weren’t you? Pervert. I am injured. I am in no shape to have sex. At least not amazing, mind-blowing, best sex of my life sex. And with Josh, that’s the kind of sex I want. Please don’t point out that Josh and I aren’t dating and therefore I have no reason to think we’re going to have sex; you’ll just blow my mood.

I’m telling you, waking up in his arms was like coming home. It was by far the most intimate thing I’ve done in my life, and we were both fully clothed. When I opened my eyes this morning, I was afraid to move. I didn’t want to wake him and end the moment, so I just lay there, memorizing the very feel of it. My head was just under his chin, in that area between head and chest, my lips actually grazing his Adam’s apple. We were on our sides, chests touching. I could literally feel him breathing. His left arm was around my waist, keeping me close, his hand resting on my lower back where my shirt had ridden up a bit. My right arm was resting was resting on his hip. His right arm came from underneath the one pillow we were sharing to the back of my head and his fingers were in my hair. His left leg was out in front of him a little bit, and my right leg was draped over both of his at the thigh. I can honestly say that I’ve never been as close to someone as I was at that moment. I’ve never felt that safe or that loved in my life. The way we fit together was absolutely incredible.

I’m not sure how long I was awake before I felt him stirring. I’m guessing it was only a matter of minutes, but it could have been hours and I wouldn’t have noticed. I could tell the moment he was awake, the moment he realized where he was and who was in his arms, because he stiffened for just a second. But then, he relaxed again; his fingers that were in my hair started massaging my scalp and he pulled me even closer with his other arm. That’s when I knew that it wasn’t going to be weird or awkward, and I made a sigh of contentment and nuzzled into his neck a little more. 

Neither one of us spoke for several minutes; we just lay there holding one another. Finally, we knew we had to get up and get ready for work, so we slowly peeled away from each other. And when we did, I felt almost lost; like my body had never been apart from his and it didn’t know quite how to handle it.

We got ready for work while discussing the arts in education bill, as if it were any other morning. It was nice…just the two of us…doing what we do.

**********

“Hey, how was it?”

“It was good.” It was perfect. It was life altering. It was amazing.

“Any new exercises to work on?” 

“No, she tortured me the same way today that she does everyday,” I say with a huge grin. I can’t stop smiling. I just can’t.

“Well, you seem to be in a good mood, considering.” I’m not going to say anything about it, but he can’t stop smiling either. That’s a good sign.

“I’m in a wonderful mood, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” I say matter-of-factly. 

“I’m in a really good mood too.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. I…slept well last night.”

I’m smiling even bigger now. How can that be? “Well, a good night’s sleep can do wonders for your outlook.”

“Yes, it can. So, are we still on for Chinese tonight?”

I should pretend to contemplate this for a few seconds, but instead I blurt out, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe we should stop and pick up a movie on our way home.” I tried to act nonchalant, but I don’t think it worked.

“That sounds like a great idea.” He turns and heads into his office. “Oh, I talked to Sam earlier.”

“Really, what’d he have to say.”?

“Oh…all kinds of stuff.”


	6. What We Do

“‘Independence Day’,” I announce when I see it at Videos Galore. I’m sure there are plenty of screaming-jumping-into-the-arms-of-man-you’re-with type of scenes in this movie. 

“Haven’t you seen it?”

“No, but I hear it’s great. I’ll love it.”

“You’ll love Will Smith, you mean.” Well, duh.

“And Harry Connick, Jr.”

“Harry Connick, Jr.?”

“The voice, the eyes, the hair, the piano; what girl wouldn’t love him?” I mean really, Harry has it all. 

Josh takes the movie and looks over the back of it. “So you’re going to be oohing and aahing all night?” He starts to put it down on the shelf. I have to do something. This is the perfect cuddle movie. Well, except for maybe “Sleepless In Seattle” or “An Affair to Remember”, but I’ll never get him to watch those. I got “Beaches” once, but I had the flu and a level four pout going on.

“Not during the alien parts. I’ll be scared then.” 

He looks up at me and raises his eyebrows. It’s not a ‘you want me bad’ eyebrow raise, it’s more of a ‘well, that could be interesting’ eyebrow raise. “You might need someone to protect you.”

I act coy. It’s not really my thing, but the situation calls for it. “I might.”

“‘Independence Day’ it is then.” He snatches the box up and we head for checkout.

**********

As I’m paying, I start analyzing the situation. Are we pathetic or are we finally admitting that we need help? Because let’s face it; that’s what the movie and Chinese food are, help. Their entire purpose is to give us a reason to lie on Donna’s bed together, so we can fall asleep together. So, why can’t I just tell her how I feel? Well, for one thing, I’m a chicken shit. I know, I know, the ego. It doesn’t make sense. But this is the one thing in my life that I simply can’t be wrong about. For another thing, Donna and I walk a fine line, and have walked it for a long time. I don’t really know how to cross that line, so if a movie can help, I’m all for it. As far as this movie goes, I’ve seen it; it will make her jump in my arms, and once she’s there, I might not let go.

Sam gave me some advice this morning that I may or may not take. It went something like this:  
1\. Tell her damn it. Stop dancing around it.   
2\. Don’t use the word love for at least a week after the initial discussion. You’ll scare the hell out of her.  
3\. This is going to be a big step for her. Don’t try to get her into bed right away. Go slow. She’s injured for crying out loud.   
4\. Get her flowers and taker her to dinner. Dinner in a restaurant, no take-out while working. And it needs to be a nice restaurant, not at a diner or a bar, and it doesn’t count if you invite CJ and Toby.  
5\. Yes, she feels the same way you moron. You’re the only one who doesn’t know it.

Here are my problems with Sam’s advice.   
1\. I already mentioned this, but it bears repeating. I don’t really know how to go from dancing to discussing. As far as discussing goes, I’m not so good at that either.   
2\. I can’t help thinking that once I go into discussion mode, the word love is going to spill out.   
3\. Don’t try to get her into bed? That’s all I want to do now. It’s like my body needs to hold her while I sleep. I know what he’s saying, don’t try to have sex with her. That I can do. I think.   
4\. If I take his advice about the flowers and dinner she might have me committed.  
5\. I’ve already mentioned this too, but it also bears repeating. I can’t be wrong about this. I think Sam’s right, but what if he’s not.

The truth is, and Sam and I discussed this, I can’t wait to kiss her. I literally dream of it. But I know that once I do, I’m going to want to do a whole lot more, so I’m thinking it might be safer to wait and kiss her when the whole lot more can be done as well. Understand? Sam didn’t agree. He said that Donna and I have to gradually work into this. It’s been a long time in the making and we can’t go from nothing to everything in one night. My suggestion was that I just continue to fall asleep at Donna’s until she’s healthy enough to move on to the whole lot more. By then, our sleeping together will be totally normal and all we’ll need to do is add nakedness and sex. And kissing, I’m looking forward to the kissing. Sam said I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. He might have a point. 

**********

I love that Josh caters to me while I’m like this. It could be said that I take advantage of it; that I manage every morning to make coffee and toast, eat and wash the dishes on my own, but I say if he’s willing, who am I to complain. For instance, he just propped my foot up on a pillow on my bed and now he’s bringing in our dinner and a beer to share on a tray so we can eat. 

And I must say; I do so enjoy eating Chinese food with Josh. It’s definitely one of my favorite things to do with him. I keep waiting for Letterman to have it on his top ten list: The top ten things Donna likes to do with Josh. Before last night, number one would have been banter. Banter has been bumped to number 2 and number one is waking up in his arms. Anyway, eating Chinese food would definitely be on the list, probably number four or five. See, when we eat Chinese at the office, we dish it out onto plates, but when it’s just the two of us at his place or mine, we don’t use dishes. We simply use chopsticks and eat out of the containers. The difference is never discussed; it’s just what we do.

Anyway, we sit and eat for a few minutes, discussing the arts in education bill, which will no doubt be part of our regular discussion for the next month or so while the bill is being drafted. I’m holding some new research I pulled this afternoon as well as notes from a few of the top arts colleges in the country. “I think instrumental music is in the worst shape.”

“That’s because it’s the most expensive. We need figures on the cost of instruments, especially the ones that students can’t afford.” He’s making notes in the margins of yesterday’s research.

“I can get numbers tomorrow, but they’re not fixable. Is there anymore cashew chicken?” He doesn’t even answer me. He just scoops some out with his chopsticks and puts it in my mouth while still looking at the notes in his hand. As I’m chewing, I try to imagine Leo and Margaret doing that. Or Carol and CJ. I mean really, shouldn’t it be weird that my boss just fed me? Because, I’ve got to tell you, it didn’t feel weird, it felt natural.

After dinner, he takes everything into the kitchen, then puts the movie in, turns off the lights and settles back down on the bed. At this point, we’re not touching, but he’s sitting very close to me, you know, in case I get scared or something. Oh, shut up.

Before we even see an alien, his phone rings. He looks at the caller ID, sighs, hits pause on the remote and answers. I can only hear his side of the conversation, but I’ve picked up that it’s Leo and that there is going to be a conference call with someone. I don’t know who, but I’m hoping it’s tomorrow. Then I hear the dreaded four words. “I’m on my way.”

**********

I hang up and look at her. “I’m sorry. I have to go. We’re having a conference call with the Russian president in a half hour. It’s morning in Moscow.”

“It’s ok. Do I need to go too?” She looks disappointed. I know that shouldn’t make me happy, but it does, just a little.

“No. I probably won’t even say anything; but Leo wants me there in case. We’re going to have to postpone the movie until tomorrow.” I know I sound disappointed too, but I can’t help it. I really wanted to do the accidentally-fell-asleep-with-her thing again.

“How long will it take?”

“Not long. Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

 

“You could come back.” She said it more as a question than a statement, and I can’t help smiling. Is it possible that she wants me here as much as I want to be here? 

“It’ll still be pretty late. By the time I get there, we make the call, and I get back here, that’s at least an hour. Then, there’s still two more hours to watch the movie.”

“Yeah, you’ll probably be tired. You should probably go home and get some sleep.” She’s biting her lower lip. I know this look. It’s the ‘I’m not going to pout look.’

“Of course, the movie’s due back tomorrow. If we’re going to watch it…”

“We have to watch it tonight.” She sounds excited now, and neither one of us bothers to mention that we could re-rent it another time or simply keep it another night and pay the late fee.

“Are you sure you won’t be too tired?”

“How about this? If I get tired I’ll call your cell and tell you to go home.”

“Deal.” Now she’s smiling, which makes me smile. I get up, grab my shoes, and head out. As I’m leaving I call out over my shoulder, “Stay in bed, you need rest. I’ll let myself back in. And no watching the movie without me.”

**********

When I get back to Donna’s an hour and a half later, she’s asleep. CNN is on but muted, and I know that I should turn off the TV and go home. Instead, I walk over to the bed and look down at her. I can’t stay. I know I can’t stay. But I can just look at her for a minute.

I bend down so I’m level with her, and I carefully move some of her hair out of her face. I know that part of me is hoping she wakes up, so we can put the movie in, but mostly, I’m just amazed by her beauty as she sleeps. She’s lying on her left side, her right leg propped up on pillows out in front of her body, and she has a small smile on her face, like there’s nothing wrong in the world.

I watch her for a few minutes, and then stand up to leave. I turn off the television and walk out into the hall and to the door. But I can’t make myself open it, so I just stand there and stare at it. Finally, I rest my head on the door, trying to will myself to open it. Just as I’m about to turn the handle, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

**********

I wake-up when Josh turns off the TV and watch him leave the room. I’ve blown it. I was supposed to stay awake, but I took some pain medication, which knocks me out completely. I didn’t want to take it, but my leg’s been killing me ever since physical therapy this morning. 

I sit up and listen for the door, but I don’t hear it open and close. After a few minutes, I climb out of bed and grab my cane. I know I should use the walker, but it’s squeaky and I don’t want to bother him if he decided to just crash on the couch. I walk into the hallway and I can barely make him out in the dark. He’s standing at the door with his hand on the knob, but he’s not leaving. Finally, he rests his head against it, and I know. I know he doesn’t want to leave, just like I don’t want him to leave. I quietly walk towards him, hoping he doesn’t open the door and go while I’m on my way. When I get to where he is, I softly reach out and put my hand on his shoulder. He turns his head and looks at me, but neither one of us says anything.

We stand like this for a good minute, and then I take his hand and start walking back down the hall. He whispers, “You’re not supposed to be using that cane,” then picks me up and carries me into the bedroom and lays me on the bed. I lay on my back and watch as he walks around to the other side, takes off his shoes and crawls in next to me. I smile at him and then turn onto my left side, facing away from him and prop my right leg back up on the pillows out in front of me. I close my eyes and after a few seconds, I feel him roll onto his side put his head next to mine on my pillow. He’s so close that I can feel the heat from his skin through his shirt, and then his arm comes around me, resting on my stomach, and he pulls me even closer. I put my right hand on top of his, and he spreads his fingers so mine fall between them. I lean into him a bit more, and pretty soon, I drift off to sleep.


	7. What We Do

The alarm is going to go off any minute now. I don’t know exactly what time she has it set for, but I know she calls me every morning at 6:00am, and it’s 5:50am now, so any minute now it’s going to go off and wake her up. For these last few moments of silence, I’m relishing the closeness of her body to mine. We haven’t moved much since we went to bed, but of course that was only four hours ago. We are, for lack of a better term, spooning; my hand on her stomach, holding her as close to me as possible. It’s also worth mentioning that her hair smells incredible. She is, to put it simply, perfect.

“I know you’re awake,” she whispers groggily.

“Really, and how do you know that?”

“I felt you prop your head up on your hand. Are you uncomfortable?”

“I could lay like this forever. I just wanted to watch you sleep.”

She rolls over onto her back, forcing me to shift a bit so she can rest her right leg on top of mine. My hand is still on her stomach, and her eyes are still closed, but after a few seconds, she slowly opens them and sees me staring down at her, then she smiles up at me. “How long have you been awake?”

“Just a few minutes. We have to get up soon.”

“We have ten more minutes,” she says as she closes her eyes again. “The clock is fifteen minutes fast.”

“Why?”

“So my brain thinks it’s later than it is. Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

She opens her eyes and looks at me. “That you could lay like this forever.”

“Yes.” I stare at her for a minute before asking, “Would that be ok with you?”

She smiles and puts her hand on top of mine. “Yes.”

“Sam said we’re supposed to talk about this.”

She smiles. “I think we just did.”

I prop my self up a little more and stare at her. “That was the discussion?”

“Yes.”

“Really? That wasn’t so hard.”

She laughs. “You thought it was going to be hard?”

I let my head fall back to the pillow so I’m close to her face. “I thought it might be. That’s really all we have to say?”

 

She turns her head so we’re looking directly at each other and smiles at me again. I’m learning to love this smile. “I think so. Is there anything else you want to say?” 

 

I stare into her beautiful blue eyes and whisper, “Yes, but Sam said I have to wait a week or I’ll scare you.”

She looks confused for just a second, and then looks at me seriously. “Well, when you do say it, I’m going to say it back. So it shouldn’t be that scary for either one of us.”

Now it’s my turn to smile at her. “Ok.”

**********

Josh and I stare at each other for a few more minutes, and then we pry ourselves off of each other and get up. He’s been wearing the same clothes for two days, so he goes home to get ready. I get undressed and start to get in the shower, but just then my phone rings.

“Hello?”

“I didn’t kiss you.”

“So I noticed.”

“You did?” Is he nuts? We were lying there this morning, and I kept thinking ‘he’ll kiss me any minute.’ But he never did. Then I thought it was ok, because we both would’ve had morning breath and although I’m not opposed to morning breath kissing, I’m not sure it’s the right atmosphere for the first kiss. You know what I mean?

“Josh, I know when I’ve been kissed and when I haven’t.”

 

“So I blew it already.”

What’s he talking about? “What do you mean?”

“I should’ve kissed you and I didn’t.”

“Ok. For one thing, you’re going to blow it much worse than that, and probably on a regular basis.” 

“But you’ll forgive me?”

“Every time.”

 

“Why?” Because it’s inevitable.

“Because of that thing we’re not supposed to say for a week.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And for another thing, I don’t want you to kiss me because you should. I want you to kiss me because you want to.”

“Oh, I want to.” I have to stifle a laugh because of the way he stressed the word ‘want’.

“Ok.”

“I mean, I really, really want to.”

This time I can’t stifle it, and I just laugh. “I said ok.”

“Desperately want to. I’ve had entire dreams where we’ve done nothing but kiss.”

Good to know. “You say that as though you’ve had entire dreams where we’ve done much more…”

“Oh, I have.” 

“Really? Well, interesting.” We’re going to have to discuss those at some point.

“Oh, they’re interesting, but we’re not going to talk about them.”

“We’re not?” Oh, yes we are.

“No, not until you’re running at full capacity.”

“Full capacity? You think I’m not…”

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant. I just meant you’re not up to par.”

“Up to par?” He’s digging himself deeper and deeper. This is fun.

“Mobile?”

“I’m not mobile?”

 

“I’m blowing it again, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“But you forgive me?” he asks me tentatively. He’s so cute. 

“Yes.”

“Because of the thing?”

“Yes.”

“The thing I’m not allowed to say for a week?”

“Yes, that thing.”

”Maybe Sam’s wrong about saying the thing.”

“Oh I don’t know. He has a point. I mean, you wouldn’t want to say it in an unromantic situation, say…while you’re on the phone. At least not the first time.”

“Good point.”

“I tend to have those.”

“So for now, I’ll stick with Sam’s plan.”

“And does his plan include kissing?”

“It didn’t specify.”

“I see. I have to go. I’m naked.” Let’s see what he has to say about that?

“You’re what?” He squeaked. I love it when he squeaks.

“I’m naked. I was getting in the shower.”

“Are you wet too?” Still squeaking. 

“Are you thinking of some of your dreams.” Why is it that I’m naked in my living room talking on the phone to Josh, and it doesn’t feel weird? It would feel weird if it were some other guy I was dating. Dating? We never actually defined it.

“Yes.”

“Am I at full capacity in those dreams?”

“Oh yeah.” Wow, that’s not a squeak. That voice was low and husky and…sexy. I like that voice.

“Well, unfortunately, I won’t be at full capacity for several more months.”

“See, when I said full capacity…”

“Yes?”

“What I meant was…”

“Semi-full?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not at semi-full capacity yet either.”

“I know. And we should wait to…discuss the dreams…until you are.”

“I agree.”

“But…I can still hold you while you sleep, right? Because I’ve been very careful.” Now he sounds like a kid in a candy store. ‘Please, please, please can I have some candy?’

“You have been, and so you may. Anytime you’d like, in fact. But for now I have to go.”

 

“Because you’re naked.”

“You remembered.”

“It’s something I won’t soon forget.” I’m glad he can’t see me right now, because I’m grinning like an idiot.

“When will you be back to get me for work?”

“An hour.”

“Will you have bagels with you?”

“No. Wait…should I have bagels with me?”

“Yes.” 

“Then I will have bagels with me, because I won’t blow it three times in one day.” 

Fat chance. “Sure you won’t.”

“And Donna. When I get there, I’m going to kiss you.”

“Not because you should?”

“I think if we asked around, the general consensus wouldn’t be that I should.”

“True, but you’re going to anyway, right?” I hope I don’t sound like I’m begging.

“Oh Yes. Definitely.”

“Good,” I say somewhat seductively. “Because my lips are running at full capacity.”

“45 minutes. I can be there in 45 minutes.”

“Don’t forget the bagels,” I say as I hang up. 

Well, there you have it. We’ve been, I don’t even know what to call it, for less than a half hour, and in that time we’ve declared our love and talked about sex. It was oddly comforting to discuss these things the way we discuss everything else. Just the two of us bantering, because that’s what we do. 

**********

I hang up the phone and immediately dial CJ. This isn’t easy to do considering the fact that I’m speeding like a maniac through the streets of DC. What? I’m in a hurry. I have to get home, get showered and changed, brush my teeth, get bagels and get back to Donna’s in 45 minutes. Or less, less would be even better.

“Hello?”

“Good morning!” I might as well try to get on her good side now, while I have the chance.

“What?” Uh-oh. She doesn’t sound like she’s in a great mood.

“I’m stopping for bagels this morning. Would you like me to get one for you?”

“What did you do?”

Damn, she knows me well. “What?”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” Really, I haven’t done anything yet. I haven’t even kissed her. Of course, by the time CJ gets her bagel, I will have. Kissed Donna I mean.

“Josh?”

“Nothing. I haven’t done anything. But I do need to talk to you and Leo this morning, if you can fit me in.”

“Are you going to ruin my day?”

Might as well be honest. “Maybe, but I’m going to bring you a bagel.”

“With herb and garlic cream cheese. I’ll have Carol set it up.”

**********

As I step out of the shower, my phone is ringing. He really has to leave me alone so I can get ready for work. But, as long as he’s calling…

I pick up the phone and seductively say, “Now I’m wet and naked.” 

“Donna?”

“CJ?” Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

“Yes. And you’re lucky. What if I had been Toby or Leo?” 

Now I’m having mental images of talking to Toby or Leo while being wet and naked. “Oh, yuck,” I groan. She starts laughing at me. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“Oh, I am,” she says and continues laughing.

“What exactly can I do for you CJ?”

“Well, I was calling because Josh called me a few minutes ago and asked for some time with Leo and me this morning, and I was wondering if you knew what it was about. But, I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Maybe it’s about the arts in education bill,” I say weakly.

“Is that unwritten bill gaining a lot of press attention, Donna?”

“Maybe?” I meant to say it, but it came out as a question. She knows. She’s no idiot.

“Or maybe, and this is just a shot in the dark, your little naked and wet comment was meant for Josh, and he needs to talk to Leo and me because the two of you finally had that incredible sex we were talking about the other night.”

“We DID NOT have incredible sex?” 

“What? After all the hype, it wasn’t incredible?” She sounds dumbfounded.

“No CJ, we didn’t have sex at all.”

“What? No sex? I’m wrong?” Now she sounds disappointed, which I find humorous. I mean, I’m not disappointed but the press secretary is? 

“CJ, I’m not…” God help me, I’m about to quote Josh. “At full capacity.”

“What?”

”The leg, CJ. Not to mention the collapsed lung and the recent surgery to repair a pulmonary embolism.”

 

“Oh, right. So, no sex.”

“No, but we cuddled.” I can’t believe I’m trying to lift her spirits about my sex life.

“Cuddled, huh? That can be nice, I guess.”

“It was very nice, in fact, it was absolutely incredible. If we never have sex, I could just sleep in his arms forever.”

“Sleep?”

“All night.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“And so you’re dating?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Well, we didn’t actually use the word ‘dating’…”

“What word did you use?”

I go back over the conversation we had in bed this morning. “Forever.”

“Really? Well, that word beats the hell out of the word ‘dating’. In my opinion, at least.”

“I agree,” I say smiling.

“So, you and Josh.”

“Me and Josh. It’s ok, right. You said the administration could deal with it.”

“Yes, it’s fine. But I think I’ll let Josh stew a bit before I let him off the hook.”

“I would expect nothing less.”


	8. What We Do

41 minutes. In 41 minutes, I managed to get home, shower, change into a clean suit, shave, brush my teeth, get bagels, and get back here. It might have been a bit presumptuous, but I also packed a duffel bag with clothes for tomorrow and some bathroom stuff. I’m just saying, she said I could hold her while she sleeps anytime I want, so I thought ahead. Now, I just need to find a parking spot and we can move onto the kissing portion of the day.

Not to put any pressure on myself, but this has got to be some kiss. Let’s face it; I blew it big time this morning. I woke up holding the love of my life, told her I wanted to be with her forever, then got up and left. Not smooth; not smooth at all.

To make up for this colossal mistake, I need romance. Not to worry, I’ve got a plan. I’m going to take Donna to the little park down the street from her apartment. It’s not big, but there’s a huge willow tree in the center of it, and when you stand under it, all these limbs surround you and you’re basically invisible to the outside world. I’m going to pick up Donna and take her there, and then I’m going to kiss the hell out of her under the willow tree. That’s really the best I can do with only 41 minutes of prep time.

I finally find a parking spot but leave the car running with the air on, due to the disgustingly hot August weather, and then run up the three flights to Donna’s apartment, taking two to three steps at a time. I knock when I get to her apartment and I’m almost glad that it takes her a minute to get to the door, because I’m out of breath from the running and tripping. Did I mention that I tripped about half way up the steps and hit my knee really hard? No? Well, I did and it hurts. 

When I hear her turning the lock, my stomach starts to get butterflies. When she opens the door I lose all ability to think, and I drop the bagels, push her walker out of the way, grab her around the waist, pulling her close to me and kiss her. So much for the willow tree.

**********

Oh, wow. Josh is kissing me. I mean really kissing me. His lips are soft and strong and ohh…he just licked my bottom lip. That was nice. Now his tongue is kind of dancing with mine and it’s slow and warm and …amazing. This is the most astonishing kiss of my life. His hands are, hell I don’t know where. I think one is on my cheek, and mine are… well, I’m not sure about that either. I can’t really feel any part of my body except my lips and tongue and I’m a bit lightheaded, and I’m hoping this is never going to end.

Ok, now I feel his hands. They’re in my hair and he’s kind of massaging my scalp and running his thumbs over my cheeks. And he’s doing something new with the kiss too. Oh, I like this. He’s sucking on my bottom lip, and using his teeth ever so gently to kind of chew on me. It’s very…man I wish I were running at full capacity. My hands have found their way to his chest, and I’m just kind of tugging on his shirt, trying to pull him closer to me. I’ve also decided that there is a new number one on the Letterman list.

Oh my goodness, I could faint. He’s moved away from my lips now, and at first I was disappointed, but now he’s doing that nibbling thing on my ear and I’m not so steady. Someone is making these tiny little moans and sighs, and I think it might be me, but I’m not sure. Now he’s moved on to my neck, which is ticklish, and wait, now he’s back to my mouth and the very tip of his tongue is swirling around mine, and I need to sit down, or maybe just lean into him a bit more. Yeah, I like the leaning thing.

Finally, yet all too soon, he pulls away. My lips kind of chase after him and he kisses the corner of my mouth once, twice, and then his lips are gone. I open my eyes to see my front door wide open and my eighty-year old upstairs neighbor walking down the stairs shaking her head and smiling. Come to think of it, I’m smiling too.

“Good morning.”

I can’t really speak, so I just nod and sigh and he pulls me close and kisses me again. This is going to be a good day.

**********

It takes several tries to get out of Donna’s apartment this morning. After the first kiss, which is nothing less than spectacular, I let go of her and find the bagels on the floor and we go into the kitchen to eat, but once we get in there and she’s facing away from me, I become fascinated with kissing her neck. She turns towards me and we kiss for quite a while and then we stop again. This time, we actually get the coffee poured into one of the coffee mugs, and by we I mean me, before we have to break and kiss some more. We stop again to notice that we’re now running late, so I let her go and get her stuff and the bagels to take to the car. I make it all the way to the front door before I have to turn around and kiss her some more, then I finally leave. When I get back upstairs to help her down, she’s pouting a level one pout and saying that she missed me. Well, what can I to do? I already told you I have no power over her pout, so I kiss her again, you know, for several minutes. We make it down two flights of stairs before we kiss again, and then to the front step of her building. That kiss takes a while. When I open up her car door and help her inside, there are a few quick kisses, but when I get in the car on my side, there’s a good five-minute make-out session. On the way to the office, we get honked at three separate times for sitting through lights because we’re too busy kissing to notice that they’ve turned green. Then, when we get to the White House, there’s one more lingering kiss before she wipes the lipstick off me, we put on our professional faces and go inside. How am I going to make it through the day?

**********

When we get into the office, which wasn’t as easy as most mornings, there is a message on my desk from Carol. Josh’s meeting with CJ and Leo is set for 8:30, just before senior staff. I know that CJ is going to give him a hard time, and I feel like I should warn him or at lest feel bad for him. However, instead of feeling bad, I’m just wishing I could be there to watch it. CJ passes me on her way to Leo’s office a few minutes later and winks. Josh comes out of his office right after her, holding the bagels.

“I thought you bought those for me.” I’m absolutely amazed that I can speak to him without mauling him right here on my desk, but somehow I’ve switched into assistant mode. And as Josh’s assistant, I would never maul him. Now, the second I’m out of this place… In fact, maybe we should go out for lunch.

“I’m meeting with Leo and CJ and I thought I should bring bagels.” He looks a little nervous.

I, of course, act innocent. “What’s the meeting about?”

“It’s about…you know.” His eyes get big and he waves his hand between us. 

I’m trying hard not to laugh. “What if you don’t come back alive?”

“Well, I’ve left everything to you, so you’re going to have to take care of my mom,” he says, then winks and walks off, leaving me in shock with my mouth hanging open. He’s kidding right? He doesn’t sound like he’s kidding, but he must be kidding. Right? 

He takes four or five steps then comes back, pulls a bagel out of the bag and puts it on my desk before smiling and leaving again. I’m still sitting in shock. Kidding, right?

**********

I walk into Leo’s office, and CJ’s already sitting on the couch waiting for me. I notice right away that the door to the oval office is open. I’m guessing Leo’s going to want to close that in a minute so he can yell at me. 

“Josh, come in. What the hell do you want?” Oh man, he’s in a bad mood too.

I put the bag of bagels on his desk and answer weakly, “I brought bagels.”

“Oh, hell. What did you do?” CJ laughs from her spot on the couch. Damn, I can’t catch a break.

“Nothing. Well, something, but it’s nothing really, except that it’s everything and I can’t and won’t change it now, so we’re going to have to deal with it but it’s not going to be a big deal because CJ’s a genius and we’re midway into the second term and no one really gives a shit about me anyway, and everyone loves her right now because of the accident and she can’t do anything wrong so now’s the time to do it when no one can bash her and therefore they can’t bash me and you know my dad would be thrilled, so as his friend you should be thrilled for me and we all know she’s going to be the boss and run me like she does here at work, so CJ should be happy too and if you have to transfer her you can but my work would suffer and you know it and it’s not like anything’s changed, I’ve always felt this way I’ve just never told her until now so there’s no reason to think we’re going to act any differently at work…” I finally stop because I’m going to faint if I don’t breathe. Where did all that come from?

Leo looks at CJ and then at me. “Josh, you better not be telling me what I think you’re telling me.”

I look to CJ for help, but she’s giving me an evil eye. “You sent me there Leo, you knew.”

“I knew how you felt, I didn’t know you’d act on it. Josh, you work for the president!” 

“I didn’t act on it,” I say. Then I add weakly, “not then.”

“Not then?” He’s yelling now, just as I suspected. I walk over to shut the door to the Oval Office, but President Bartlet walks in before I have the chance. Oh, please no.

“What’s going on?” He asks with a smile as CJ stands up next to me. “Someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

Leo looks straight at me and gives me a ‘you’re about to be killed’ smile. “Why don’t you tell the President what you just told us, Josh?”

I’m horrified. Please tell me this isn’t happening. I have to tell the president of the United States that I’m in love with my assistant? This can’t be happening. “I don’t think I can. I was kind of…”

“Rambling like an idiot?” CJ picks now to talk?

“On a roll is what I was going to say, CJ.”

“You talked so long your face turned purple.”

The President interrupts us. “Someone tell me what’s going on.”

Leo looks at me expectantly. I look over at CJ, pleading for help, but she shakes her head. Finally, I look up at the President and say in the most casual voice I can manage, “Donna and I have discovered that we…would like to…what I mean is…I have feelings, strong feelings, very strong, and she’s not totally unaffected by me either, so we talked because Sam said we had to, and we would like to, I mean we’re going to begin to…outside of the office of course, we’re going to…well we’re not going to…you know…until she’s running at semi-full capacity, but we’re going to…see each other in a non boss-assistant like manner.” They’re all looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, which I can’t fault them for considering how high and fast my voice got at the end. 

Finally, the President speaks. “What the hell are you talking about?” I can’t really fault him for that either. What I just said didn’t make any sense at all.

“I’m in love with Donna sir, and she’s in love with me. Well, that won’t be confirmed for another week, but I’m pretty sure.”

“What? Never mind. I got the love part. What I didn’t get was the semi-full capacity part.” CJ starts coughing when he says that and Leo looks down at a file on his desk. They obviously know what I was talking about and are as mortified as I am that I now have to explain it to the leader of the free world.

“That was, umm…referring to her…current physical limitations.”

“What do her physical limitations have to do with anything?” he asks.

“Well, Mr. President, I was saying, and I never should have mentioned it, but I was saying that we aren’t going to…” I can’t say this. I can’t.

“You’re not going to what?”

“Make…please Sir.” I’m begging him not to make me say it.

“Make what?”

I look at the ground. “We aren’t going to…make love…until she’s feeling better. That’s what I was saying.”

“Now Josh, why would you tell us something like that? That’s none of our business.” And then it happens. CJ starts it and the others join in. They laugh. And they’re not just laughing; they’re laughing hysterically. CJ is crying she’s laughing so hard, and Leo is slapping his desk. As for the president, he doesn’t laugh, but he’s got that gleam that he gets when he knows he’s won. 

I look at them and I know they’ve got me. I shake my head and sigh in relief. “Having fun with my humiliation, Mr. President.”

“Don’t I always?” CJ’s now laughing so hard that she’s holding on to my shoulder so she doesn’t fall.

“But…I’m dating Donna. Don’t any of you care?”

Leo looks at me and smiles. “No, not really, we just wanted to make you sweat.”

“You don’t care?”

“CJ, do we care?” he asks CJ.

“I’ve got a plan Sir. It’s not going to be a problem.” 

He seems ready for this answer, but I am dumbfounded. She has a plan? “You have a plan?”

“Like I didn’t know this was going to come up some day? Of course I have a plan.”

“But, you aren’t shocked? At all?”

“No.”

“No? Leo?”

“No.”

”Mr. President?” Surely he’s shocked.

“Leo told me about it an hour ago. I just wanted in on the fun.”

“The fun? You call this fun?”

“Yes, don’t you?”

“No Sir, this isn’t fun at all.”

“Really? It’s fun for me.”

“Me too,” adds CJ. Leo just nods.

“Wait a minute. An hour ago? How did you know an hour ago? This didn’t even happen until 5:45 this morning.”

“Oh,” says CJ. “I called Donna this morning after I talked to you.”

“And she told you?” My voice is doing the octave thing again. My girlfriend of less than three hours has already sold me out? Not that I can blame her, I would’ve done the same thing to her. We pick on each other; it’s what we do. But just three hours after we…whatever we did?

“Let’s just say I did some investigating and found out the truth.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Josh,” says Leo. “I’d think you’d be happy that we’re ok with this.”

“I am. I really am. I just…” I look back at CJ and narrow my eyes at her. “What do you know?”

“You don’t really want to discuss that here, in front of everybody, do you?” she replies with a smirk.

My rub my face with my hands. “No, I guess not.”

“I didn’t think so, cuddle boy.”


	9. What We Do

After senior staff, I pass Donna’s desk with an evil smile on my face. She’s on the phone, so I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Hey Judas, I need to see you in my office when you’re done there.” Of course, then I suck her earlobe into my mouth for just a second before standing back up, so I don’t think she’s too worried that I’m angry.

She walks in a few minutes later with her walker, her schedule book and her innocent face, but I’m not buying it. “You sold me out. You sent me into the lion’s den.”

“The lion’s den. You don’t think you’re overstating it? Just a bit?” 

“The President was there. He made me explain full capacity to him.”

“And how exactly did full capacity come up?” She turns around and shuts the door, which gives me all kinds of ideas that don’t include work or scolding her. Ok, maybe scolding her… 

I start waving my hands in the direction of the door. “You’re cheating. You’re distracting me.”

She laughs. “How is the shut door a distraction?”

“Because then you’re right there and no one else is around and…you just are. I’m trying to be angry here, and you’re distracting me.” The voice thing is happening. 

“And when you were sucking on my ear out at my desk?”

“You were distracting me then too,” I say matter-of-factly.

“I was distracting you? I was on the phone.”

“Yes,” I say accusingly. “Yes you were. You were conveniently on the phone so I’d have to lean in to whisper to you. You’ve obviously learned early on that I’m fascinated by that part of you’re body.” Of course, it’s really the only part I’ve had access to so far.

“I see. I’m cunning, aren’t I?”

“Yes, very.”

“So, right now, I shouldn’t, say, do this.” She pulls her hair up off her neck with one hand and tilts her head to one side, leaving the other side exposed, then smiles seductively at me. I’m out of my chair and around my desk in front of her in record time.

“No,” I say as lean in and put long kisses on her neck, licking and nipping and sucking just a bit, but not enough to leave any marks. “It’s…” My mouth travels up to the earlobe and I suck it into my mouth gently biting it. “Very…” back down her neck to her collarbone where I lick the dip in her body there. “Distracting.”

She makes a small little sigh-moan-squeak, which I’m quickly learning to love, but then takes an abrupt step back and drops her hair. “Well then, no more of that.”

“What?” What’s happening here?

“Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean there isn’t a country to run. When we’re in the office, I’m Donna the assistant, not Donna the…”

“Girlfriend?”

“Right.”

“But…” She just…and then she stepped back? Is she trying to kill me? She didn’t even kiss back.

“No buts. I don’t make out with my boss.” Like I said, she didn’t even kiss back.

“But…you came in here and shut the door and held your hair up and… You sold me out again. You are Judas.” How can she do this to me?

”I’m not Judas.”

“But that was mean.”

“Yes it was, and I’m sorry for that.”

I look carefully in her eyes. “I don’t think you are.”

 

“Well, you’re a smart man,” she says with a smile.

“You’ve betrayed me twice in four hours.”

“I should be punished.’

”Yes.”

“And I will be.”

“Yes. Wait, you will?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Well, how about we go to lunch before your meeting with Hamilton. As punishment, I’ll let you suck on my neck and my ear as much as you want.”

“And your lips?”

“That seems only fair.”

This is a great punishment. I get to…wait a minute. “So, your punishment is that I’m going to buy you lunch and then make-out with you.”

“Yes. You don’t like my idea?”

“I’m not saying that.” I mean really, of course I want to make-out with her. But that’s no punishment. “I think you should buy lunch.”

 

“But that’s not going to happen.”

“True.” I think for a second. “Ok, but I get to pick where we eat.” I have to get something over her, or…well, I lose. 

“Ok, as long as it’s sandwiches from Sequoia.”

“Donna?”

“I’m sorry, I was just trying to think of someplace quick so you’d have more time for the…punishment.” Damn, a valid point. “But you’re right, you should get to pick. So, where do you want to go?”

“I was thinking of sandwiches from Sequoia,” I say with a defeated voice.

She sighs dramatically. “Ok, I guess I deserve it. I did sell you out.”

“And they were mean to me,” I start whining.

“Poor baby. We should probably get ice cream on the way back. To make up for it.” 

“Yes, we should.” She turns and walks out, leaving me to wonder what just happened. I don’t even like ice cream.

**********

I’m sitting at my desk an hour later when CJ walks up to me. “Hey, how about lunch? There are still details I need.”

I look up at her and smile. I haven’t been able to wipe this smile off my face all day. “I can’t today. How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? That’s too long for details. I need details. Sisterhood details.” She stops and looks at me. Then she looks over her back at Josh’s office. “Actually, I’m not sure about the details, it is Josh.”

“Yes, but we’ve discussed that, and you know what we think,” I say in a low voice.

“Right…incredible.”

“We are just speculating, but if he does everything as well as he kisses, we’re right.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Lunch then, come on. I need details. Please?????”

“Sorry, I’m being punished during lunch today for selling him out to you and Leo.”

“So he’s not letting you eat lunch?” She acts like she’s appalled by this, but it really sounds just like something he’d do.

“That’s not my punishment,” I say raising my eyebrows at her.

“Then what’s your punishment?”

“Josh is buying me lunch at Sequoia’s, and then we’re going to make out for the rest of the hour.”

“Lunch at your favorite deli and then a make-out session? That’s your punishment?”

“I negotiated well.”

She crosses her arms out in front of her and nods her head. “I’m impressed. You’ve learned well my child.”

“I’ve learned from the best,” I say, gesturing towards her.

“Well, that’s true.” She turns and starts to leave. “But if you get sequestered to my office today for your afternoon rest, we’re dishing.”

**********

Donna and I are eating lunch at a small deli a few blocks from the White House. When we got here, I walked up to the counter and ordered a pimento loaf sandwich for me and a chicken salad sandwich for her, which is what we always get. This is the precise moment I learned that things are going to be different from now on. Donna quietly but pointedly informed me that she doesn’t like pimento loaf, which I knew and is exactly why I always order it. I told her she didn’t have to have any of it, when what I really meant was steal any of it, but she told me that she’d still have to taste it afterwards, and if I insisted on pimento, she’d get tuna. Now here’s something you might not know about me: I hate tuna. And even though I’m telling you this, you cannot possibly grasp the loathing that I have for it. The taste, the smell, the texture, I hate it with a passion even greater than my hatred for Ryan Pierce, my ex-intern and current foe. When I tell you I hate tuna, I mean hate. Hate, people, hate. So, here we sit eating chicken salad and turkey sandwiches. “Do you think you could get around the hill ok if you needed to?”

“I don’t see why not, as long as someone dropped me off or I took a cab. Why?” 

“I was talking to Leo after the torture meeting,” I say, looking at her sternly, “and we thought it would be a good idea for you to take some meetings on the arts in education bill.”

“Why not go straight to senators and congressmen? Why have preliminary meetings with aides?”

 

“They won’t be preliminary and they won’t be aides. You’ll be meeting with a few senators and several congressmen; mostly the ones sitting on the fence. I’ll take care of the opposition.”

She looks at me, shocked. “What? Isn’t that what Ed and Larry are for. They’re the congressional liaisons.”

“Well, now that we have an assistant that can do the smaller things, I’d like you to start assisting me on more important matters.”

“Really?” She’s beaming at me. In fact, she’s beaming so much, I’m wondering if she’s more excited about this than the recent development in our relationship. 

“Hey. That’s not supposed to be the most exciting thing that happened to you today.”

“Oh, it’s not. But it’s still pretty great.”

“So if it’s pretty great, but the other thing is better, then what would you call that?” 

“Amazing. Astounding. Sublime. Yes. Sublime. This chicken salad sandwich is definitely sublime.” My mouth opens wide. I’m talking about love and she’s talking about chicken salad?

“But…but. Donna!”

She reaches over the table and touches my hand. “I’m teasing. You are…this…us…it’s everything. Nothing less than everything.”

**********

We sit like that for a few more minutes, eating, smiling, bantering slightly brushing against each other, basically doing that thing we do. We see a few people we recognize come in and go out, but CJ said we should slowly start being seen in more non-work activities, so although we don’t flaunt it, we aren’t hiding anything. CJ has a plan that includes Katie of the press corps, so in the next few days it should all be out. 

About five minutes later, Josh gets anxious. “Alright, let’s go.’

“But I’m not done with my sandwich.”

”Wrap it up and eat it when we get back. We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Josh, it’s only been 20 minutes. I know we never take it, but we’re allowed a full hour.”

“It’s been 20 minutes? Damn. We’re running behind.” He takes my sandwich right from my hand and wraps it up in the wrapper it came in. “Let’s go.”

“We’re running behind?”

“Yes. We’ve only got 40 more minutes of punishment time. We need all that time.”

He’s standing, looking at me like we’re running some race and I stopped to rest. “We need all that time?”

“Are you saying we don’t? Once we get back to the office, you’re off limits, remember?”

He has a very good point. I stand up and grab my walker. “You’re right. I can eat on government time, let’s go.” We head out the door and he puts his hand on my back to guide me, which I not only love, but noticed many times during the Josh/Amy debacles that he didn’t do that with her. That just makes me love it even more. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that. I think we’re going to my car.” He looks at me apologetically. “I know it’s not the center of romance, but I don’t think making out in the park across the street from the office is a good idea.” Then he stops walking and looks at me.

“What?”

He looks down at the ground and then directly in my eyes. ”We don’t have to, you know. If you aren’t comfortable with…I don’t want to make an appointment to kiss you. I don’t want to put romance on a schedule. I don’t want to fit you in and make you feel like…We can go to the park and just sit and talk and hold hands. I’d be fine with that. I just want to be with you.”

I start to tear up instantly, but try to keep it in because if freaks him out. I whisper, “You’re perfect sometimes. You know that?”

He puts his hand over mine on the walker and runs his thumb over my knuckles. “You bring out my best,” he says as he slowly leans over and gives me a soft, warm, lingering, yet respectable kiss on the lips. When he pulls away, he keeps his head close to mine and moves his nose in a small circle around mine. Then he leans in and kisses me the same way again. It’s the perfect ‘in public’ kiss. 

However, it leaves me wanting more. “Ok, I think we should go to the car now.”

“Oh yeah, let’s go,” he says, somewhat out of breath. He leans back up, and we turn forward to start walking again, and standing there, two feet in front of us, staring at us with a smirk in place is my worst nightmare.


	10. What We Do

“I’m not sure you got it all, J.” Great, the wicked witch of DC. Here I am, having the absolute best day of my life and Amy shows up. She couldn’t have found out about Donna and me like God intended it…through the DC rumor mill? I mean really, here I am holding Donna’s purse, which she’s now fishing around in, and my ex-girlfriend shows up? Well, that settles it; I’m no longer in the mood to go to the car, if you know what I mean. 

 

“Excuse me?” 

“Whatever you were trying to lick off her face. I’m not sure you got it all.” Lick off her face? Well now my mind is making a list of things I can lick off of Donna, which puts me back in the going to the car mood. 

“Actually Amy, that was a kiss. Has it been a while?” Ouch. Good one Donna.

Amy looks over at her, with a plastic smile on her face. “Donna, I see you’re having one of your occasional bad days.”

I’m not sure what that’s all about, but Donna doesn’t miss a beat. “Actually, I’m having maybe the best day of my life, thanks.” See, I like that, because I know she’s talking about me.

“I see you finally figured out how to snag the prize. And it only took you, what, six years?”

Seven, but I’m not going to mention that. I do, however, like her description of me. “She’s always had me Amy. I think we all know that.” I look over at Donna, who’s beaming up at me. Oh, yeah, I’m getting points for that. We need to get away from Amy so we can get to the car.

As for Amy, and I can almost see steam pouring from her ears, like in cartoons. She always knew that I was Donna’s, she all but told me once. It was a few years ago at Dr. Bartlet’s birthday party. There was an issue with Donna’s citizenship and I left the party several times to try to fix it. Amy didn’t seem to care, but later that night at my place she said if she had been the one kept out of the party, I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble. I didn’t answer her right away, and after a few seconds she got pissed and left. She was right, which is why I had chosen not to answer.

“So, you’re just going to screw your secretary? How well do you think that’s gonna go over?”

“I imagine it’s going to be amazing, but it won’t be screwing. That’s what I did with you.”

She snarls at me and turns to Donna. “Enjoy it while you can, Donna. As soon as you drop you’re helpless routine, he’ll run. He always runs.”

I’m just about to say something when I’m reminded that Donna doesn’t need protected. She looks Amy straight in the eye and says, “Yes Amy, I know, I’m the one he runs to.” Wow, that was sexy. If she were running semi-full capacity, I’d take her right here on the sidewalk. 

Amy huffs and walks past us. “Goodbye Amy,” Donna says in her sweetest voice. “It was nice seeing you.” Evil. My girlfriend is cunning and evil. I must have her now.

**********

“Well, that was fun,” I say casually as we watch her walk away. I look over at Josh, who’s kind of looking at me like he’s starving and I’m a burnt hamburger. 

He leans over to my ear and says in a kind of husky voice, “That was the sexiest thing I‘ve ever seen. I want you so bad right now.” Between what he says, his hot breath on my neck, and his lips grazing my ear, my one good knee turns to Jell-O. 

“We should get to the car then, we’re losing time,” I say with a small chuckle. I’m trying to act nonchalant, but he can probably hear my heart beating out of my chest. Man, do I wish I were running on full capacity. Or semi-full. Hell, at this point, I’d take approaching-semi-full. I need to bump up my physical therapy. I can just imagine the conversation; can we start doubling up on the therapy? I’m desperate to have sex with my boss. Yeah, that’d go over well.

It’s only about a three-minute walk to the White House from Sequoia’s, but it takes us longer because of my leg, damn car bomb. When we finally get to Josh’s car, we only have about ten minutes. I feel somewhat…what word am I looking for…slutty, making out in the back seat of a car, but since it has tinted windows and Josh and I both live 20 minutes from the White House, it’s gonna have to do. I know it can’t be a regular thing, but it’s our first day together, give us a break. Anyway, if you knew how well he kissed, you wouldn’t be making fun of me. 

We get to the car and into the back seat. We have to remain sitting, because I can’t take his weight on my leg, but that’s fine, because we can’t seem to take the time to get into a lying down position anyway. Our bodies are like magnets to each other, and we’re kissing before he has the door shut. 

“Josh, you can’t mess me up.”

He reluctantly takes his mouth off my collarbone and looks up at me. “What?”

“My hair. Your hands are in my hair.”

“Your hair is so soft,” he says as he goes back to my neck. “I can’t keep my hands out of it.” He takes an earlobe in his mouth, which makes me sigh and groan a little. “It’s like silk.”

“Right.” I don’t remember why we’re talking about my hair, but whatever. I turn my head so our lips meet, and immediately his tongue is in my mouth. It’s not some frantic 16 year old how fast can I move around in there kiss. It’s lazy and soft and warm and… oh shit I remember. I pull back after a few more seconds, because a few more seconds won’t hurt, right? “Josh, you’re messing up my hair.”

He unbuttons one button on my shirt and starts kissing the newly exposed area. His hands, however, stay in my hair. Somehow, he manages to get out, “I have a comb in my glove compartment.”

Good, cause he does this little massage thing to my scalp that feels really nice. “Perfect. Your brilliant.”

“You put it there, you said my hair was wild,” he says as he moves back up to my neck. He’s right. He is somewhat obsessed with that part of my body. Of course, that’s really the only part he’s had access to so far.

“I’m brilliant, then.”

“Yes you are.”

**********

“You are brilliant,” CJ announces when she walks in to her office and finds me sitting on her couch for my mandatory rest period.

“So I’ve been told. You heard?” See, when Josh and I had our little run in with Amy this afternoon, I reached into my purse, hit send on my cell, and left my purse unzipped. CJ was the last call I’d made, and as part of the sisterhood, I thought she’d want in on the conversation. 

“Yes, I heard. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, so I almost hung up, but then I heard you say her name, so Carol and I sat in here and listened to the whole conversation.”

“Well, I knew you wouldn’t want to miss it,” I say smiling.

“I was so proud. I felt like a piano teacher listening to her prodigal student playing in Carnegie Hall.” 

“Really? I wasn’t too easy on her?”

“You were swift and brilliant. You took the high road while she acted like an idiot. You kept your remarks to a minimum, but they were like bullets. And telling her it was nice to see her again after she lost the battle? It brought tears to my eyes.”

I laugh. “Well, a lady must always be polite.”

“Of course, then we heard Josh call you sexy and tell you he wanted you. And then you mentioned going to the car.” My mouth gapes open and I stare at CJ, mortified. Please tell me she hung up before we got to the car. “Don’t worry, we chose not to stay on the line any longer.”

“Oh, thank God.” 

“But, how was the car? Did you get that punishment he promised you?”

“I did indeed.” 

“So, I should stay out of his backseat for a while.”

“CJ!! It was just kissing. There are no remnants.” Hanging out with CJ is great. I never talk about sex or men, except to CJ. She’s like that friend you had back in middle school, when you made lists of boys and talked about future husbands and had key chains that said “best friends” and were split in half. You remember those? I had one with Jenny Saum. CJ is my adult Jenny Saum.

We talk for a few more minutes, and then CJ goes back to work and I read over some more research I pulled on SAT scores in relation to students involved in school arts programs. We sit quietly working for about a half hour, when out of the blue, she says, “Did I mention the ‘I’m the one he runs to’ comment? That was my favorite.” 

“Really? She almost threw me when she called me helpless.”

“That was just a cheap shot. She knows Josh hates helpless women. He’s no knight in shining armor.” I laugh at the thought of Josh, decked out in armor, riding up to save the girl and then whining about not being able to get off the horse or see out of the helmet.

“He saved me when I was helpless.”

“That’s because he was in love with you,” CJ says, as if it answers all questions.

“I’m not talking about the accident. I’m talking about the day we met.”

“So am I.”

“Oh.” See, I always worried that I was the obvious one. As it turns out, he was as obvious as I was. That’s good to know.

“Anyway, you weren’t helpless. You were a scared kid who was strong enough to chase after something new. He just gave you the chance.”

“He’s saved me other times.” One time in specific that could have landed him in jail.

“You’ve saved him.”

“Yeah,” I ponder this for a second. “That’s what we do, I guess.”

“Really, I never noticed,” she says sarcastically.

**********

“Hey beautiful,” I say as I walk into CJ’s office looking for Donna.

“Oh Josh, that was the sexiest thing I‘ve ever heard. I want you so bad right now. Let’s go to your car.” Ok, you’re thinking Donna just said that, but it was CJ, and she was mimicking the way I said the same thing to Donna earlier. I could die.

I look at my Judas of a girlfriend, horrified. “You told her?”

Donna and CJ both start laughing. “No, I didn’t,” Donna says. Then she softly adds, “She heard.”

“What?” That was loud. That probably drew attention.

“I heard the whole conversation, Mr. ‘I imagine it’s going to be amazing.’” Oh great, more mimicking from CJ. This isn’t happening.

“What? But…how?”

“Oh,” says Donna like it’s no big deal. “I called her when Amy showed up. Thought she’d enjoy it.”

I turn to Donna so CJ can’t see my face. “How much did she hear?” I quietly ask.

“Oh, don’t worry Josh. Carol and I hung up after you propositioned Donna. We didn’t hear the teenage necking in the car.” Carol too? 

I need to get the upper hand back. “Well, you missed the best part.” Then I look back at Donna. “As for you, you’re going to have to be punished again.”

“What do you have in mind this time Josh?” CJ says. “Dinner at her favorite restaurant, a few dozen roses and then cuddling while watching ‘Sleepless in Seattle?’ I hear you’re pretty tough with the punishments.” 

“Donna,” I say in my best Screech from ‘Saved By the Bell’ voice. “You told her about the punishment?”

She puts on a level two pout. “Was that bad?”

Damn it, she brought out her weapon. Be strong Josh. Be strong. “You… but…I can’t believe…ahh. We’re not watching ‘Sleepless in Seattle.' You can have the dinner and the roses, but we’re watching a manly movie.” CJ looks at Donna like she’s some sort of goddess while Donna smiles coyly. I am so whipped.


	11. What We Do

Donna decided to postpone her punishment (I don’t really know how she’s allowed to do that, by the way) until she can, and I quote, “wear a sexy dress that will make every man drool and want to be you without this gaudy walker in the way.” I haven’t decided if I want Donna in a drooling type dress out in public. Don’t get me wrong. I want her in the dress; I just don’t know that I want the dress out in public where other men will undoubtedly drool. It’s safe to say that I’ve never wanted that in the past; I think my barbaric and somewhat disparaging comments have proven that time and time again. However, she assures me that now that we’re together, I won’t be jealous. We’ll see about that. For instance, I’ve always been jealous as hell of the clerk at Sequoia’s who smiles at her, in what is my opinion, too friendly of a manner. And today, like every other time we’ve gone there, I wanted to reach across that counter and punch him in the face. Instead, I stood behind her, held her around the waist and rested my chin on her shoulder. Then I gave him the, ‘don’t mess with my woman’ look, which made me feel a little better. Ok, I admit it; when it comes to Donna, I’m a Neanderthal. 

Anyway, my point in bringing this up is….Wait a minute, what is my point in bringing this up? I just had it, but then Donna stretched and her back arched and her tank top rode up a little and, well, you know how that goes.

How does a woman do that to a man? Let’s say for instance, that I was wearing something similar to what she has on, which is pajamas…not that I would wear women’s clothing or anything, this is just hypothetical. So, instead of the boxers and t-shirt I actually have on (that’s right, I’m spending the night) I have on a tank top with really thin straps that isn’t tight, but is form fitting, and a pair of cotton shorts that aren’t obscenely short or anything, but are fairly short, and that I don’t have on socks or a bra. Also, I have the elastic waistband of my shorts rolled down a little. Have you got it? You’re picturing this? Now, are you turned on by my bare shoulders, my long shapely legs, scars and all, the small strip of stomach showing, the hint of my breasts, and my deep red toenails? No? That’s odd. Because I’ve got to tell you, she’s over there on the other side of the bed, chewing a pencil and reading a report, and I’m over here stealing glances at her every chance I get, pretending to read the same report, when if quizzed right now, I couldn’t even tell you what the subject of it is. So I ask again, how does a woman do this to a man? 

**********

How does he do this to me? I managed to go seven years without kissing him, without the heat of his breath on my neck, without the feel of hands in my hair, and without hearing that adorable little sound he makes when I lick his bottom lip, yet here I am, sitting no more than three feet away from him and I’m going through withdrawal. I mean really, how pathetic am I?

I’m trying to read this report; I don’t even know what it’s about. I just flip the page every few minutes, hoping he doesn’t notice that I can’t take my eyes off him in his boxers. Now I know, Josh is a fairly normal looking guy. Most women wouldn’t swoon over him like I do; well, most women are insane. I say this because I am looking at a man in his early forty’s who has biceps any 25 year old would kill for, the kind of biceps that when wrapped around you make you feel safe. A man who has long tone legs that granted, need a little sun, but are otherwise perfect. They have just the right amount of hair; you know what I mean? Who among us hasn’t dated a man that had the leg and back hair of an ape? Who among us hasn’t dated a man with too little leg hair, leaving you wondering if he shaves, and if he does, is he gay? Right. So, when I tell you that his legs have just the right amount of hair, you know what I mean. And his chest, oh yeah. I’ve only felt it through his shirt, but it’s defined and muscular, the kind of chest you love to rest your head on. 

So why am I three long feet away from him on my bed working on a Friday night when I should clearly be snuggled up to him watching ‘Independence Day?’ I’ll tell you why. He used his dimples. He said something about tomorrow being Saturday and us being able to lie in bed and not go into the office until 9:00am if we worked for an hour tonight, and then he used his dimples and just like that, I caved. So I’m sitting here, with 32 minutes of work time left, and I feel like a cocaine addict who needs a hit.

**********

When Donna starts stretching her neck, kind of rolling it slowly from side to side, I’ve had all I can take. “Ok, work time is over,” I say as I toss my things to the floor and start moving over to her side of the bed.

She keeps looking at the report about whatever, but I can see her smiling. “Josh, we have 27 minutes left. My boss said I have to work for an hour.”

”That’s because your boss can control himself around all this gorgeous alabaster skin. I, however, cannot.”

She giggles a little as I lay down next to her and run my hand very lightly down one of her arms to her leg and keep going down to her knee, but keeps her eyes on the report. “It’s just skin. You’ve seen it before.”

“Yes,” I say as I continue with the touching, dragging my hand back up her leg and resting it on her stomach, just below where the tank top ends. “But this is the first day I’ve been allowed to touch it.” With that remark, I take the report from her hands and toss it on the floor.

“You took my papers.”

“That I did.”

“Does this mean…” she raises her eyebrows and I feel a jolt of electricity. She’s not talking about sex, is she?

“Does this mean what?” I ask before I go in for the kill on her neck. Man, I love her neck. It’s long and…so…there.

“Does this mean that it’s time for the movie?” How can she be thinking of a movie right now, much less one about aliens?

“No, it’s not time…” See, I should finish that sentence, but I just can’t stop putting my lips on her skin. “…for the movie yet.” Oh yeah, I love it when she licks my lip like that. It’s incredible. “27 minutes…” Never mind. We’ll finish that sentence in a minute. Let’s continue with the kissing. 

Donna has an extraordinary talent with her mouth. I’ve always known she could bring the verbal, but I had no idea the other things she was capable of. I mean, yeah, I hoped, but dreams don’t get this good. I’m somewhat concerned that her incredible talent means she’s kissed far too many men, but I’m not stupid enough to ask her that. That could end the kissing.

We make-out for about half an hour or so, and I have to say, it’s incredible. I’m looking forward to the semi-full capacity activities, but until we get there, I’m quite happy with the not-yet-semi-full capacity activities, if you catch my drift. I mean, not-yet-semi-full capacity activities include necks and lips and ears and hair and I’m just about ready to take my first reach for a breast…and that’s when Donna pulls away and announces she’s hungry. 

“Yes, me too,” see I’m trying to continue with the make-out session.

“I mean for food,” she says, yet tilts her head to give me better access to her neck.

“Food?” How can she be thinking of food right now? I’m trying to cop a feel.

“Yes, it’s often cooked and served on plates, or in take-out containers.”

“See I was thinking of more kissing, and…”

“And?” 

“And…you know…other things.”

“Other things?” She asks laughing a little. “What other things, Joshua?” She sits totally up now, which isn’t any fun at all.

I want to grab your breast. See, I don’t think that’s the thing to say right now. I’m not much of a ladies man, but somehow, I doubt that’s the way to go. You don’t discuss the logistics of hand on breast action; you’re supposed to be suave about these things. “I thought I could…familiarize myself with…more of you.” In hindsight, I’m not sure that was much better.

She laughs again, so I don’t think I’m in too much trouble. “Really? How much more of me did you have in mind?” 

See, I know I should look at her face right now, but my eyes just kind of move on their own to her breasts. I know I’m a pig. I can’t help it. Seven years, people, seven years!!! “Um, you know. Just parts of you.” Oh man, I am blowing this. 

**********

I’m so freaking turned on right now, I’m tempted to say screw the leg, let’s just do it. I know; but Josh is looking at me like I’m a present he’s dying to unwrap. You have no idea how sexy it is. Seven years, people, seven years!!! And although I’d like to say I’m not a first date kind of girl, I’ve had my moments. Cliff was the second date and Colin was the 3rd day I’d known him, and we didn’t even go on official dates. We just roamed Gaza and talked about death and destruction. 

Ok, let’s be realistic. Josh and I cannot have sex tonight. We can’t. I don’t want to be screaming in pain the whole time. I mean, yeah, I want to scream, but not in pain. See, that was just wrong to say, wasn’t it? “Parts of me, huh?” We might not be able to have sex, but I don’t see any reason why we can’t…explore a little. 

“Just some parts.” How could I not love this man? He’s such a bumbling fool. I just adore him.

I am starving, however, which is entirely his fault. He ripped me out of that deli this afternoon with only half my sandwich gone. “Tell you what.” He sits up, excited, like I’m about to let him unwrap the present. “Once I have food in my stomach, I say everything from the waist up is fair game.” I love this. I love that we can talk about this stuff and that it’s not awkward like it usually is when you start dating. I love that we can make a joke out of it, because we joke around all the time, it’s what we do.

His eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head, and he just did a double take of my torso, as if to check and see what waist up means. “Really?” He comes back in for a kiss and his hands immediately reach for my stomach.

“Food first, Joshua. I need to eat.” 

“Right, food. Just…one more kiss, I can’t get enough,” he says before devouring my lips again. Not that I’m complaining. 

I give him a minute or so because, well, I like to kiss him, before pulling away and pointing out the obvious. “The sooner we eat, the sooner we can get to the waist up stuff,” I say, but go in for another kiss myself. I’m as bad as he is.

“Right.” Well that did it, because he just jumped off the bed and walked out of the room.

“Where are you going?” I call after him.

“I’m going to cook.” What? I must not have heard that right.

“You’re going to what?”

“Cook. What do you have?” Nothing, I have nothing. Josh and I have eaten take-out every single night since my mom went back to Wisconsin, I have no food.

“I don’t think I have anything,” I say just as he walks back into the bedroom with a box in his hand. “What did you find?”

“Pancake mix. I make really great pancakes.” Really? Why am I just now learning this?

“You’re going to cook for me?” You have to understand my shock here. On a regular basis, this man has nothing in his refrigerator except Pepto-Bismol and BBQ sauce. I don’t know why there’s always BBQ sauce, when there’s never meat, but that’s a discussion for another time.

He smiles, obviously very proud of what he’s about to do. “Yes.”

“You’re going to cook? For me?”

Still smiling. “I, Joshua Lyman, am going to make pancakes for you, Donnatella Moss, yes.”

“Why?”

He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “I can’t tell you why for another 6 days.”  
And see, just like that he stops my heart. Just when I think he’s going to make a comment about getting in my shirt, he tells me he loves me. Just when I expect him to be…well, him, he says something romantic. Something that is only between the two of us; something that is charming and sweet and perfect and straight from his heart. 

“Plus it’ll take too long for a pizza to get here. We need to hurry so we can get to the waist up stuff.”


	12. What We Do

“Hello?” Oh man, he sounds like shit.

“Sam my man, we need to alter the schedule.”

“Josh?”

“Of course.”

“Is someone bleeding?” What?

“Probably, some where.” What is he talking about?

“Is someone we know bleeding?”

“Um, no. Not that I’m aware of.”

“Is someone we know hospitalized?”

“No. Why are you asking such weird questions?”

 

“Because you’re not supposed to call this early if it’s not an emergency.” He’s yelling at me. I can’t believe he’s yelling at me. Him and his damn rules.

“Sam, it’s 9:15.”

“Subtract three, Josh.”

“Ok, it’s 9:12.” This is fun. He’s so groggy; he’s easy to toy with.

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no. I need you. We need to bump up the schedule.”

“The schedule?” 

“The one you gave me on Thursday.” Nothing. “The Josh/Donna schedule. How could you forget?”

 

“I do other things Josh. You’re love life isn’t my whole world.”

“It’s not? How can that be?” I don’t understand. I thought there were literally millions of people out there rooting for the two of us to get together. Am I mistaken?

He groans, which means I’ve won. He’s too awake now to go back to sleep, so he might as well talk to me, which just pisses him off. “So you need to bump up the schedule, huh? I guess things are going well.”

“I’ve been where no man has been before, my friend.”

“We’ve discussed this on numerous occasions. She’s had sex before.” Untrue.

“Sam, don’t say that. You know how I feel about that.” 

“Josh, she’s a beautiful 31 year-old woman. She’s had sex.” Beautiful, true; sex, untrue.

“There’s no proof, in fact, there’s good evidence to the contrary.”

“But that proof only exists in your sick twisted mind.” Of course.

“For the last seven years, I’ve spent 12-15 hours a day with her…”

“I’m aware of your efforts to stop it, and I applaud them. But you didn’t succeed.”

“I’ve never seen her have sex, therefore, she hasn’t.”

“You didn’t see the Titanic sink, but it’s at the bottom of the ocean.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying Donna’s had sex. You haven’t gone where no man’s gone before.”

“Ok, I’m not agreeing with you on the sex thing, let’s be clear. But that’s not what I was talking about.”

“What were you talking about?”

“I’m not telling you now. I was going to, but you said mean things about Donna.” 

“Ok, I’m hanging up this time.”

“No, no, no, no, no. We haven’t altered the schedule.”

“Where have you been that no man’s been before?”

 

“Sam!!”

“Tell me, or I’m hanging up.” 

“I don’t think I can tell you. It’s…well I’m sure Donna would consider it private.”

“You call me, dangle juicy information in front of my face, and then you pull the private card?”

“I shouldn’t have done that?”

“No!” He’s yelling again. “Anyway, you don’t think she’s telling CJ about it right now?”

I stand up and walk to my office door. Donna isn’t at her desk. She wouldn’t….oh, who the hell am I kidding. “Ok. Have you ever made a woman…you know…without…you know?”

“Are you talking about oral sex Josh?”

“No. I’m talking no part of me touching or penetrating…anywhere near there.”

“I’m sorry, you’re telling me…”

“That I am indeed the man. Yes.”

**********

“I had an orgasm last night,” I announce as I plop down on the couch in CJ’s office.

“You had sex? I thought you were waiting,” she’s not paying much attention to me right now, but I’m about to gain the upper hand. 

“I didn’t have sex.” Let’s see what she does with that.

“Now, Donna. Let’s not have the whole ‘that depends on what sex is’ conversation.”

“I’m telling you, CJ, I had no sex of any kind last night, but I did climax.”

“Was it…” She waves her hands around in the air for a few seconds but keeps her eyes on her computer. “Self inflicted?”

Again, only with CJ can I have discussions like this. “It was not.”

Ok, now she’s finally stopped reading her e-mail or playing that solitaire game and I have her attention. “What am I missing?”

“So this has never happened to you?”

“Orgasm without some sort of sex, no.”

“Well…”

“What? How?” 

“I don’t know how. I was hoping you could enlighten me.”

“Ok, what was happening at the time?” She’s switched into detective mode and is working on the case of the unexplained orgasm.

“Heavy making-out. Everything from the waist up was fair game.”

She makes a face at me like a six year old that was just given liver for dinner. “I could be sick, but go on.”

“There was kissing, there was touching, there was breast kissing and touching, and then there was an orgasm.”

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” What the hell kind of question is that? “I know an orgasm when I have one, CJ. And this was indeed an orgasm.”

“So…”

“He’s better than we thought.”

“Wow.”

“Yes.”

**********

“So you’re actually taking my advice?”

“Yes.”

 

“You had the discussion?”

”Yes, and it was really easy.”

 

“So you discussed why you waited so long, and why you’re going to do about your work situation, and Jack and Amy and Collin and Amy, the sequel?”

“That’s what you meant by discussion?”

“What did you think I meant?”

“Well, you know…I told her I wanted to wake up with her forever and she said ok.”

“And that was your discussion?”

“Yeah.”

“I see. You didn’t tell her you love her, did you? Cause you’ll scare the crap out of her.”

“No Sam, I didn’t tell her.”

“What about the nice dinner?”

“She postponed it of her own free will. She doesn’t like to go out too much with the walker. But I did something else.”

“You ordered in from a really nice place, lit candles and had a violinist?”

What the hell? “No, I made pancakes and gave her a non-sex induced orgasm.”

“So, really the only part you’ve followed is refraining from telling her you love her.”

“Yes, and that’s the part we need to bump up.”

“Why can’t you wait a week?”

“Well, I thought maybe I’d propose in a week.”

“What?”

**********

“Katie thanks for coming.” She walks in and sits on one of the chairs in front of my desk. I have to stop playing solitaire, but that’s ok, it’s in the name of love.

“No problem, what’s up?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” I stand up from my desk and walk to the door. “Carol, can you get me Josh’s phone records for the week he was in Germany?” That should do it.

I come back in and sit down. “I didn’t know Josh was in Germany,” she says, cryptically. She’s been my pawn before and she knows it.

“Oh yeah,” I act nonchalant. “He was there for a week over Memorial Day.” Come on Katie. What happened around Memorial Day?

“Memorial Day, huh? That’s interesting. I’ve been meaning to ask, how was Donna’s first week back at work?”

Good girl. “Great. She’s happy to be back, Josh is happy to have her back and the rest of us are happy to have both of them so happy.” I raise my eyebrows as I say the last part.

“Good. I’m glad she’s finally…happy. It’s past time if you ask me. Tell her I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She leaves as Carol walks in with Josh’s phone records. “Thanks,” I say and toss them in the trash.

**********

“Josh, you’re looking well this morning,” the President says as I walk into his office for senior staff.

“Yes, sir. I slept well last night.”

“Well, I hope you’re…sleeping…slowly. Broken bones take a long time to heal.” Oh gross. The President just told me not to sleep with Donna. I could be sick.

Thank goodness Toby is as appalled by that statement as I am. “Josh, what the President’s trying to say is don’t screw it up with Donna. Obviously he doesn’t know you too well.” Thanks for being on my side Toby.

“Actually, Donna already knows I’m going to screw it up, and she’s promised to forgive me every time."

"Why?"

"Because that's what we do."

"I'm sorry, are you saying there are times you have to forgive her?"

"Yes. Just yesterday, she sold me out to Leo, CJ and the President. But I forgave her."

"I don't believe you."

"Well thanks for your support Toby.”

 

“How’s this for support? Mr. President, I think Josh would be a good addition to the trip to Nigeria on Tuesday.” He looks at me and smiles. I can’t believe he sold me out like that.

“Toby!” I turn to the President. “Mr. President, I don’t even know where Nigeria is. I’m not a good choice for that trip.” I do not want to spend five days away from Donna right now, sue me.

“Don’t worry Josh, Leo’s going. I need you here.” He looks over at Toby. “But I will need you Toby.”

“Yes!” I say to Toby. “The President’s on my side! Na na na.”

“Josh,” I look over at the President. “I’m on Donna’s side. You can be almost certain that I’m never on your side.”

“Yes sir.”

“In fact, I want to see you after this meeting. We’re going to have a geography lesson.”

“But…”

“Josh.”

“Yes Sir.”

**********

“C.J.” Everyone’s yelling my name. I love the power of my job.

“Yes, Scott.”

“What is the president hoping to accomplish on his trip to Nigeria next week?”

“The summit is with Nigeria, Cameroon, Gabon, Ghan, and Benin. The main discussion will be on trade ports. The President wants better access to ship relief supplies to the inland countries in Africa and needs these five border countries to cooperate for that to happen. Also, I’d like some extra credit for saying all five of those countries correctly.” I look around the room. “Katie.”

“CJ, can you comment on Donna Moss’ medical and emotional progress?”

“Donna’s back at work this week, which is a huge relief to the rest of us. Josh Lyman is tough to take without her here. As for emotionally, she continues to be amazed at the outpouring of love the country is showing her.” Katie smiles at me as I tell all the reporters, in my own sweet way, that Donna can’t be messed with right now.

“And is it true that Josh Lyman spent the week of Memorial Day in Germany at her bedside?”

That’s my girl. “I’d have to check my calendar, but I believe he was in Germany that week.”

“Has Josh finally woken up, realized he’s in love with Donna, and asked her out?” Good use of the word finally. Katie was the perfect choice for this.

“Katie, you know I can’t comment on the personal lives of the staff.”

“Well, CJ. If that’s the case, please congratulate them for me. Six years is a long time to wait for the real thing.”

I’m a genius.


	13. What We Do

I just got off the phone with my mother. You know, my mother who was kind enough to fly to Germany and stay for three weeks only to then fly here with me and stay for another two. My mom who loves and adores me, who puts up with the fact that I have a job she not only hates but also has nearly gotten me killed. My mom who sends me care packages every month, who took me in after Dr. Free Ride dumped me, who sent me $100.00 a month every month for a year when I left for the campaign. My mom who knows I’m madly in love with my boss and has never once told me what a bad idea that is. Yes, her. Well, she just called to scream at me like I’m ten years old again. Why would she want to scream at me, you ask? What could I have possibly done from DC that pissed her off that much in Madison? It’s quite simple really; she didn’t appreciate finding out about my relationship with Josh through the press secretary. Oops.

It’s not like I purposely didn’t tell her. I mean, this all just started a little over 24 hours ago. Yes, yes, I know, it started years ago, but it officially started yesterday morning at 5:42 am. And since then, things have been crazy. For one thing, there’s been a lot of kissing. I mean a lot. It’s quickly becoming what we do. It’s possible that Josh and I have kissed more in the last 24 hours than Jack and I did the entire two moths we dated. I’m talking a lot of kissing. There was also Josh’s discussion with the President, the Amy smack-down, and last night’s pancake/orgasm incident. I haven’t had a lot of spare time.

Anyway, my mother, on instructions from my father, just guilted me into agreeing to come home for Christmas. Wait, it gets worse. I have to bring Josh, and we have to stay at least two days. 

How am I going to break this to my boyfriend of 36 hours? ‘By the way, honey, I know we’ve only been dating for a day and December is four months away, but we’re going to Wisconsin for Christmas where you’ll no doubt be harassed by my sister, two brothers, six aunts, eight uncles, three nieces, four nephews, both sets of grandparents, and quite possibly the neighbors.’ Yeah, I’m definitely going to have to pout to get this. Level four, maybe level five.

The phone rings again. “Josh Lyman’s office?”

“Donna, my dear. How are you today?”

Don’t panic; maybe she doesn’t know anything. “Mrs. Lyman. I’m great. How are you?”

“Wonderful darling. Although I’d be better if you called me Victoria?” 

I smile because we go through this every time. “Yes Victoria.”

“And how is physical therapy going? Is my son taking care of you? He’s helping you up to your apartment and making sure you eat?”

“He’s being very helpful, yes.” I decline to elaborate.

“He’d better be. You took such good care of him when he was shot; it’s about time he repaid the favor. If he starts acting like the pain in the ass we both know he can be, you let me know. I’ll take care of it. Is he in?” 

I laugh a little. Victoria Lyman adores her son, but she has no misconceptions about him. “Sure. Hold on.”

**********

What the hell is that noise? Is it a bomb? Has someone bombed my office? I check my pager; it’s not going off. I check my cell phone; nothing. “Donna, something’s beeping in my office.” I yell.

“It’s your intercom,” she yells back. “Pick it up and talk to me.”

Oh right. We’re supposed to be using the intercom, I keep forgetting. It’s very confusing and really just gets in the way. I don’t care for it, but Donna’s not supposed to be on her feet too much, and I want her to heal quickly for my own selfish reasons, so I’ve agreed to give it a try. I just can’t remember how to pick up the damn thing.

“Josh, hit the blinking button,” she yells. 

I hit the button. “I hate this thing.”

“Imagine my shock at that statement. Your mother’s on the phone.”

“She is? What does she want?” My mother calls every Tuesday. She never calls on Saturday. What have I done?

“How should I know?”

“You talk to her as much as I do.”

“Joshua Lyman, is that true?” Uh oh.

“I have a feeling it won’t be true anymore,” I sheepishly reply.

“You’ve got that right.” And my life changes a little more. Surprisingly, I don’t mind.

“Hey, how about lunch today? You pick the place and I get to hold your hand the entire time we’re gone.”

She chuckles and sighs. “As wonderful as that sounds, it’s four o’clock in the afternoon.”

“It is?”

“Yes.”

“No wonder I feel like I haven’t touched you in ages.”

“I have a counter offer,” she says a bit seductively.

“Ooh, let me hear it.”

 

“It’s Saturday. We leave at five o’clock like normal people do Monday through Friday, pick up Italian and finally watch ‘Independence Day’.”

“And I get to hold your hand the entire movie?” I don’t really care about the food part, just the holding her hand part.

“You get to hold me the entire movie.” Two hours of holding Donna? That’s much better than my thirty-minute lunch plan. 

“You have a deal.” 

“Good, now talk to your mother. And be nice,” she says before hanging up. 

I smile for a minute before I pick up the phone, simply because I can’t help but smile today. “Hi Mom! What’s up?”

“What’s up with me? I’ll tell you what’s up with me.” Uh oh. She sounds pissed. She’s using her stern voice. What did I do? “My nosiest neighbor just told me you’re dating Donna, that’s what’s up with me.”

I try to laugh a little. “She did huh?”

“Yes Joshua, she did. Apparently CJ Cregg announced it this morning during her press conference. As you know, I don’t usually watch the press briefings, although now that I know it’s the only way to find out about my son’s love life, I might start.”

Damn busy bodies in her retirement village. “See Mom…”

“Don’t ‘see mom’ me young man. How long have I been telling you to wisen up and ask that precious young woman out? How long?”

Since you met her on the campaign trail less than a week after she dumped Dr. Free Ride and came back to me. “I don’t know exactly…”

“Six years and four months, that’s how long. And did you listen to me?”

“Yes?”

“No, you did not listen to me. Year after year you gave me one excuse after another. ‘She’s my assistant,’ ‘She’s too young,’ ‘I’m with someone else,’ ‘She’s with someone else,’ blah, blah, blah, blah.” Come on mom, it was complicated.

“But…” 

“But nothing. How many times did I tell you that ‘it’s complicated’ isn’t a valid excuse? How many times did I tell you she wouldn’t wait forever? How many times did I tell you that making yourself miserable with whatever shrew you were dating at the time wasn’t going to change the way you felt about Donna?” 

“Once or twice?” Why do I feel like I’m ten again?

“Once or twice a week you mean.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about, exactly? Are you sorry that you wasted six years and four months of happiness? Are you sorry that you didn’t listen to me? Are you sorry you haven’t produced any grandchildren for me yet? Are you sorry that you didn’t tell me, or are you sorry that Mabel Wilson did?”

 

“Umm…the Mabel Wilson thing?” 

“Well,” her voice goes back to a normal sound. “You’ll be happy to know that I’ve already devised a way for you to make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you?”

“You said you were sorry, were you lying?” Uh oh, it’s the stern voice again. I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m a little afraid of my usually very kind 68 year-old mom right now.

“No…”

”Well then, you surely want to make it up to me.”

“Of course I do.” No I don’t. 

“Good.” Ok, the calm voice is back. “You and Donna are coming here for Thanksgiving.”

“Mom, we…”

“Yes you can. Thanksgiving is three months away. You have plenty of time to plan it and Leo already told me you could take the entire weekend off work.”

“You talked to Leo?” She talked to my boss? I feel like I’m back in high school and she’s calling in sick for me.

“Of course I did. I knew that although you would love to come visit your elderly lonely mother with your beautiful girlfriend, you wouldn’t want to impose on Leo. So I cleared it with him for you.”

“Of course you did.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“And I appreciate it, really.” Not.

“Not a problem. That’s what I’m here for. Now I have to go, but let me make something very clear young man.”

“Yes?” Oh no, what now?

“When you propose to that angel, I better know it before Mabel Wilson does.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oh, and Joshua?”

“Yes?”

“Congratulations. You are happy, right?”

That’s my mom. “Happier than I’ve ever been,” I say with a silly grin on my face.

“Good. I love you, and I’ll talk to you on Tuesday.”

“Bye Mom,” I say and disconnect.

Well that was painful. My mom, who is usually the sweetest woman in the world, just chewed me out in a way that would make CJ and Donna look at her in awe. Donna…how am I going to tell Donna, who I’ve been dating for all of a day and a half, that we have to spend Thanksgiving with my mom. I don’t think Donna would have a problem spending the weekend with my mom, but to plan it three months in advance. She might think I’m reading a bit into a two-day relationship. ‘Hey honey, I know we’ve only been dating for a day and a half, but we’re going to my mom’s for Thanksgiving, in three months. That’s not rushing anything, is it?’ Yeah, I’m definitely going to need to bring out the dimples for this.

**********

At 5:02, Josh comes out of his office with his things and walks up to my desk where he finds me not ready to go. “You’re ready,” I say shocked.

“You said 5:00.”

“But…that means 5:45 or 6:00 in Josh Lyman time.”

“Not anymore it doesn’t. When given the choice between being here working or somewhere else holding you, I’m going to choose the somewhere else.”

“Yet in the past, you’ve always chosen work.”

“That was my only way to be with you,” he says matter-of-factly.

See, how does he do that? One sentence and I melt like butter. And now I can’t wipe this smile off my face. “Just for that, I’m going to kiss you when we get in the car.” 

“Did you really think there was a chance we weren’t going to kiss when we got to the car?” Good point.

We walk outside where Josh takes my things and pulls the car around while I call Luigi’s for take-out. When he gets to the door, he helps me in and puts the walker in the trunk, before going back around to his side. The second he’s in the car we’re kissing frantically, as if we haven’t seen each other in a month, instead of you know, two and a half minutes.

“I missed you today,” he breathes out between kisses, which strikes me as funny for a second and then makes perfect sense.

When he leaves my lips and starts nibbling on my eardrum, I start the little moaning-sighing-thing, which makes him chuckle into my ear and neck. “I thought today was never going to end,” I say while twirling my fingers in his curly brown hair.

We keep kissing until a guard knocks on Josh’s window and asks if everything’s ok with the car, then we leave to pick up dinner. We’ve been driving and chatting and holding hands for a few minutes when he quietly and tentatively says, “Maybe we should stop at my place for clothes?” 

“You could bring enough for a few days,” I reply shyly. “If you wanted to.” 

He picks up my hand that he’s holding and kisses it. “I want to.”

I smile up at him and go for the gold. I hope this doesn’t freak him out. “I could probably clear out a drawer for you, if you…wanted to leave a few things.” Ok, well that freaked me out a little bit.

“Really?”

“I don’t have to, it was just…never mind, it’s not a big deal. I just thought you wouldn’t want to carry…forget it.” I’m trying to back peddle. This must be what Josh goes through everyday.

“I don’t want to.”

“I know. It’s too soon. I didn’t mean to rush…”

“I mean I don’t want to forget it.” 

“What?”

“You said forget it. I don’t want to.” 

“You don’t?”

“No.” He’s acting very calm.

“You’re not freaking out?”

“No, you are.” What the hell is going on? He’s being the mature one. Is this the Twilight Zone? 

“So, you want a drawer?”

“Yes,” he says smiling at me. “If it’s ok with you.”

“It’s ok with me.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

**********

Donna’s sitting on her bed finishing MY lasagna. She ordered angel hair pasta with marinara sauce and basil, but once she saw my dish, it became our dish. I’m not complaining because every time she takes a bite she compliments me on my ability to share and rewards me with a kiss. I’m eating and clearing out the third drawer down on her tall dresser for my things.

“What’s this?”

“A rock.”

“I see that. Should I throw it away?”

“No! Josh, that’s very important. Put it in the box.” We have a cardboard box that I’m putting most of her things in. Apparently, this is her throw-all drawer.

“It’s a rock,” I mumble, but keep going. “What about this?”

“What is it?”

“It a concert ticket. Les Miserables.”

“My first Broadway show,” she says dreamily. “We sat in the balcony and I cried when Eponine died. It was beautiful.”

“Please don’t make me discuss musicals. The box?”

She laughs at me and says yes as she takes another bite of “our” lasagna.

“What about this menu?”

“The box,” she says without looking up.

“How do you know? You didn’t look at it.”

“It’s the menu for Savannah’s On The Creek in Charleston. You took me there for dinner my second day on the campaign.”

“I did?”

“Yes, it’s the first meal we ate together,” she says and looks up at me innocently.

“And you kept it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She smiles at me. “I’ll tell you next Friday.” I love this woman.

**********

When we got here tonight, there was a message on my machine from the video store, reminding us that ‘Independence Day’ was past due, so after dinner and some kissing, we put it in and got comfy on the bed. Josh is sitting, leaning against the headboard, and I’m sitting between his legs leaning against him. His arms are wrapped around me and every minute or two he kisses my neck. In fact, we’ve had to pause the movie twice to make-out. 

“So,” how’s your mom?” I have to bring up the holiday thing eventually, so maybe I can start with his mom and move casually to mine.

“Donna, my tongue is in your ear. Do you think this is the appropriate time to discuss my mother?”

“Sorry, you may continue.” He has a good point. We can discuss Christmas another time. I like the tongue-in-the-ear thing.

Unfortunately, he stops and looks at me suspiciously. "What did she say to you when she called?”

I shrug. “She asked how physical therapy was going and if you’ve been helpful.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“She didn’t tell you why she wanted to talk to me?”

“No, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did you sell me out again?”

I laugh at him. “To your mother?”

“Yes.” 

“No. I sold you out twice yesterday, plus this morning I told CJ about….last night. That’s enough for a while.”

“You told CJ?” He looks appalled.

“Five hundred dollars says you told Sam.”

“But…but…I was bragging.” He just doesn’t get the CJ/Donna relationship, which I don’t’ understand. It’s exactly like the Sam/Josh relationship.

“So was I. I was bragging about my amazing boyfriend.” 

“I am amazing, aren’t I?” Oh Lord, he’s smirking.

“Weren’t we talking about your mother?”

“She was mean. She yelled at me.”

“She did? What did you do?”

“Apparently, she wasn’t too thrilled about finding out about us from her neighbor.”

“Ohhhh,” I say, understanding now.

“What do you mean, ohhhhh?”

“My mother called today and yelled at me for the same reason.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“She yelled at you? She shouldn’t yell at you. You’re recuperating,” he says and goes back to kissing my neck. Apparently kissing me while talking about his mother grosses him out, but kissing me while talking about my mother is no big deal.

Ok, he’s distracted now. This is my opportunity. “I felt kind of bad,” I say leaning my head so he has plenty of access to my neck. “She’s been really great since Gaza.”

“Uh huh.” Good Josh. Keep your attention on my neck. 

“She went on and on about how I never tell her anything and how I never visit. She said if it weren’t for the accident, she wouldn’t have seen me all year. The aunts and uncles all think I’m dead because I never get home for family get-togethers.”

“Mmm…” Man that feels good. I didn’t know the collarbone was erogenous. Must…focus.

“She said if I were a good daughter, I’d make it home for the occasional holiday and stop breaking my dad’s heart.”

“Yeah.” He turns my head so he can kiss my lips, so the discussion stops for just a minute. When we lose our breath, he goes back to my neck and his hands find their way around to my chest.

“Then she put my dad on the phone who nearly cried, saying he’s never even met the man who stole his little girl’s heart. I’m the youngest you know.”

“Right. We’ll have to visit,” he says distractedly as his hands find their way under my shirt.

“Really?”

“Mmm.” Man this feels good. I almost feel bad for using this situation to my advantage. Almost. 

“Good. We’re going there for two days over Christmas.”

**********

What the hell just happened? We were talking and I was kissing and…and…and now I’m spending Christmas in Wisconsin with the cheese people? “Donna, we’re very busy around Christmas.” And now I’m whining?

She turns and looks at me. Oh hell, she’s pouting. And she’s not playing fair. This is a level four pout. How can she come out of the gate with a level four pout? “Josh, it’s my family.”

“I know but….” Damn it. I’m spending Christmas in Wisconsin.

“Josh, they found out about us on CNN, I had to give them something.”

Ok, don’t panic. I’m spending Christmas with Donna’s family in Wisconsin. This could be ok. After all, by then we’ll be engaged. Sam said I have to wait three months to propose, that’s November 13th. So, I’ll be visiting my soon to be extended family. My soon to be huge extended family. I’m sweating. Is it hot in here?

“Josh, it’s just two days.” What the hell is that? Is that…oh my God; is that a level five pout? She has a level five pout? She’s never used a level five pout on me before. I can’t breathe. I’m hyperventilating. 

“Please….”

I nod my head up and down several times. I don’t have the ability to speak. Her level five pout has left me speechless. The room is spinning. Speechless and dizzy. And numb. I’m definitely numb. A level five pout has the ability to leave me speechless, dizzy, breathless and numb. I’m done for.

“Thank you!!” she screams as she throws her arms around my neck and kisses me solidly on the mouth. It takes me a minute to respond because, well, I almost passed out, but then I regain my composure and kiss her back.

After a few more minutes of kissing, we turn the movie back on and I begin thinking of how I can use this to my advantage. I’ve just given her Christmas. I should use this as an opportunity to get Thanksgiving.

“You know,” I say nonchalantly as I start chewing on her earlobe the way she likes. “We should plan on visiting my mom soon too.” 

“Nice try. Leo already told me about Thanksgiving"


	14. What We Do

I wake up and immediately notice that Josh is not behind me, holding me like he was when we finally exhausted our lips and went to sleep last night. It takes about a second and a half to determine I don’t care for this at all. What good is it to share a bed with someone if he’s not there in the morning when you wake-up? If I wanted to wake-up alone, I would’ve gotten into bed alone, where I could have stretched and rolled around and not been so careful with my leg. I’m just saying…

I roll from my side to my back and hear something crunch beneath my head. I reach and pull out a piece of paper that simply reads. “Donna - Go back to sleep. You’re not supposed to wake-up without me. Five days, Josh” This makes me smile the 16 year-old dreamy smile and I look over at the clock. 8:10am…oh how I love Sundays! Josh has claimed this to be our not-getting-out-of-bed day. Barring any national emergencies, or you know, phone calls from Leo, we’re not going into the office today. The question remains, however, if this is our not-getting-out-of-bed day, why am I the only one in bed?

I ponder this question as I get up, put Josh’s note in my box of important life moments and hobble into the bathroom. I might not be leaving the house today, but I’m sure as hell going to brush my teeth. When I reach for my toothbrush, I notice Josh’s in the holder next to mine. This, like the thought of his things in the third drawer, makes me feel all gooey inside. A few minutes later, I hobble back into the bedroom and go to sleep. Oh, how I love Sunday’s.

The next time I wake up, I feel Josh’s lips and tongue on my neck. Now we’re talking. This is the way to wake-up on a Sunday morning; any morning really. I try to lie still and fake sleeping, because I really like what he’s doing, but when his fingers on my waist start traveling towards my breasts, I can’t help but giggle. I’m very ticklish. “Good morning, beautiful,” he mumbles and keeps nibbling on my neck.

See, right now my back is to Josh, which means I don’t really have much access to him. I’m not complaining mind you, I think the sounds I’m making prove that. I’m just saying, I like to touch and kiss and chew and lick too, and I can’t really do that like this. So, I roll onto my back and cross my right leg over my left to keep it out of the way, and Josh’s lips leave my neck and go to my jaw, then finally to my lips. We’ve got to discuss this. I know I’ve described the way Josh kisses before. If you’ve forgotten, think back to Friday morning in my apartment, Friday afternoon in the car, Friday night during the pancake/orgasm incident, or last night during the movie. Damn, that’s a lot of kissing in two days. But here’s the thing; as much as I’ve described it, I just don’t think you get how good it is. If you really understood, I’m certain you would have taken out a hit on me by now to get me out of the way. When I tell you this man can kiss, what I mean is THIS MAN CAN KISS. Let’s start with the slowness of it. For a man who lives in such a constant state of rush, he certainly takes his time with a kiss. For one thing, a kiss can last a good five minutes before he bothers with his tongue. He loves to take my bottom or top lip into his mouth and suck lightly. He nibbles on me just a little bit; he even pays close attention to the corners. Then, just when I think I might die, he licks my lips. He chuckles into my mouth just a bit when I moan from this, but he’s got me craving it so much by then that I simply can’t help myself. Then, he does this thing…it makes me dizzy, he uses his tongue just inside my mouth. Another few minutes go by before it ventures past my teeth. My tongue just naturally stays out of the way for this exploration of my mouth, which is warm and soft and…amazing. And then…do you remember that candy you ate when you were a kid that kind of popped and exploded on your tongue? Well, when our tongues finally meet, that’s what it feels like. Kissing Josh is unlike any kiss I’ve ever had before. And after two days of nearly non-stop kissing, I’m already quite certain that I won’t soon get used to or sick of it.

During all this, his hands….oh my goodness. His hands are also agonizingly slow. First, he takes the ponytail out of my hair and spends a lot of time with his hands buried in it. I’m glad I combed it while I was brushing my teeth, otherwise tangles could be a problem. When his hands are in my hair, his fingers massage my scalp, which is nearly hypnotic. Before Friday, I would’ve said it’s just hair, but now…nothing Josh does is ‘just’. He’s also fond of my stomach. He likes to run his fingers over it softly, which makes me giggle into his mouth.

Oh, this is new. Josh, who was previously next to me, just rolled us so I’m lying on top of him. This throws me for just a minute because of my leg, but then I feel his leg scoot out and pull the pillow I prop my leg up on over to us. He pulls it between his legs and I prop mine back up. Once I can focus on the kissing again, I like this position. For one thing, I like the way our bodies are pressed against each other. I like the way my breasts feel against his chest, and I really, really, really like the way my hips feel against his. This new position makes my hair fall around our faces, and he starts running his fingers through it from root to tip, which is utterly astounding. Although every so often we both open our mouths and breathe, our lips haven’t actually lost contact in several minutes. After a while of the hair thing, I feel his hands on my back, and yes, the tank top is slowly being raised. He would no doubt take if off of me if he could tear his lips from mine, but again, he’s in no hurry what so ever. It finally gets pushed up as far as it’s going to go and his hands are on my back slowly moving up and down while his thumbs graze the side of my breasts. 

Oh, hell no. That is not the phone. Tell me his cell phone is not ringing. His cell phone is ringing, isn’t it? Unbe-fucking-lievable. Pardon my language, but….come the hell on. Josh pulls his lips from mine and I rest my forehead against his. We know he has to answer it. His hand leaves my back and reaches in his pocket for the phone. Instead of hello, he answers it with, “This better be important.”

**********

“Sounds like I caught you at a bad time.”

“Yes, I’m very busy.”

“Good.” Good? How dare him call me when it’s inconvenient! I would never do that!

Donna starts getting off of me. “Sam, I can’t talk right now.” I hold her tight around the waist so she can’t move and she giggles a little bit.

“You’re not at the office.”

“I’m not going in today.” 

“You’re not at home.”

“No…” Oh no, she’s kissing my ear now. Must. Get. Off. Phone.

“So you must be at Donna’s. You spend the night?”

“Sam, I have to go.”

“You didn’t have sex, did you?”

“Trying now,” I say as I roll Donna and myself onto our sides.

“Not an image I want. You’re not naked are you?” 

“No,” I squeaked. Here I am lying with Donna, talking on the phone to a man, squeaking. Smooth Lyman, real smooth.

“The schedule Josh, think of the schedule.”

“I don’t like the schedule.” Donna hears this and laughs, but otherwise continues on my ear.

“Hey, I hear her. Tell her I said hi.”

“We’re kind of busy here, Sam. Maybe we could call you later.”

“Let me talk to Sam,” Donna whispers. Well this just sucks.

She takes the phone from my ear. “Hi Sam…Better...No, he’s being good…Me too, when are you coming for a visit…Can’t, we’re already saddled into his mom’s for Thanksgiving and my parent’s for Christmas…Yeah, she did good, didn’t she?” I’m growing impatient at this point, which must be difficult for you to believe, so I start kissing her stomach, moving up towards her gorgeous breasts. “How about you, are you seeing anyone?” Now my hand is on her breast. “Really? Is it serious?” How can she not be paying attention to this? It’s time for mouth action. “Where’d you meet?” Hmm…apparently Sam is still seeing what’s her name. I’ll have to remember to call him when he’s in bed with her. Oh, maybe these last few times….now I see why we have calling rules. Oops. “No, he’s just trying to distract me by…”

“Donna!” I scream. She laughs and looks down at me.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“You’re Judas, give me the phone.” I rip the phone out of her hands and she laughs some more. “Hey Sam,” I say as I sit up.

“The schedule Josh, the schedule.”

“I’m on it.”

“The schedule doesn’t call for sex yet.”

“I know. I was just…” I look over at Donna who’s smiling and has turned on the television. “…practicing.”

“Practicing, I guess.”

“Yes.” What? I want to make sure I get it right when the time comes.

“And what about the word?”

“Next Friday.” 

“And the proposal?”

I sigh. I particularly don’t like this one. “November 13th.”

“Good. I know you don’t like the schedule but it’s for your own protection. You propose to a woman a week after dating and she’s likely to take out a restraining order on you.”

“So you say. Hey, what about…” I look over at Donna. She’s flipping channels and doesn’t seem to be paying attention to me, but I’m not fooled. She hears everything. “Umm...”

“What? You can’t say right now?”

“Right.”

“It’s something you want to add to the schedule?”

“Yes.”

“Sex?”

“No.”

“You don’t want to add sex to the schedule?”

“Oh, it’s on there, I’m just not consulting you about it.”

“Fair enough. But what else could there be?”

How do I tell him without telling him? “So, I brought some stuff over here last night. Did you know that Donna keeps all kinds of weird girly memento things?”

“Like what?”

Come on Sam. “Like a rock and a menu and concert tickets and a program for her niece’s piano recital. Stuff like that. I had to put it all in a box so I’d have a place to put some of my things.” I stressed the last part.

“I think that’s a typical girl thing to….oh. You’re talking about your things, not her stuff.”

“Correct.” That’s my man.

“The move in?”

“Yes.”

“You want to move in there?” Donna is still looking at the T.V., but her hand is resting on my leg, and I know I have to be sly here.

“No…”

“You want to ask her to move in?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…”

“Right.” It occurs to me at this moment that I’m in bed with Donna, yet I’m discussing our love life with Sam. Why does this seem completely natural to me? 

“Well, let’s see. You could split it. We’re waiting three months to propose. I think the move in question can be in 6 weeks.”

“Ok, first…we’re? Second, that’s too far away.”

“Six weeks is good Josh.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

“Fine, five.”

**********

“You and Sam get everything worked out?” I ask him while keeping my eyes on CNN.

“Yes, I think so.”

“What did you just add to the schedule?”

“Nothing.”

He squeaked; he’s lying. “Are you lying?”

”Yes.”

“You didn’t add sex to the schedule, did you? I know you and Sam are co-dependent, but he doesn’t have a say in when we have sex.”

“Ok, Sam and I are co-dependent? What about you and CJ?”

“That’s different. That’s the sisterhood.”

“I don’t’ really understand that, but ok. And no, I didn’t schedule sex,” I respond as I pick her hand up off my leg and kiss it.

She turns off the television and looks at me with a pre-pout. I know I haven’t discussed this with you, but she has a pre-pout. It basically tells me that she’s on the verge of a pout and I should watch anything I’m about to say or do. There’s no need to panic, but there is cause for concern.

“I woke up and you weren’t here.”

I can’t help but smile at this, even though she’s in pre-pout mode. I just love knowing that she likes waking-up with me as much as I like waking-up with her. Talk about co-dependency. “Well,” I say and kiss her hand again. “I went to the store so we could be prepared for ‘not-getting-out-of-bed’ day.”

Her eyebrows quirk up. “The store, what did you get?”

I reach over her to her nightstand and hand her a cup of coffee. “I got coffee and bagels and cream cheese and the paper for breakfast. I got bread and turkey and spicy mustard and BBQ potato chips for lunch. And I got Chips Ahoy and milk for desert.”

“What about dinner?”

“Take-out, don’t be ridiculous.” Donna and I are take-out people. I think we always will be. Cooking is not what we do.

She takes a sip of her coffee. “This is cold.”

“Well,” I look at her with a guilty face. “I brought it in here when I got back and I was going to wake you up by kissing your neck, and then…you know.”

She smiles. “We got a little involved in the waking-up.”

“Right. So, am I forgiven?”

“About the coffee?”

“About not being here when you woke up?”

“I liked your note,” she says shyly.

“So I am forgiven.”

“Josh, you brought me food and a paper so I wouldn’t have to leave the apartment for the whole day and you think you need forgiven?”

“I don’t?”

“Do you get in trouble so much that you simply assume everything you do is wrong?”

“Well….yes.”

She leans in and kisses my neck. “Well, this time you did good.”

“Really?” I ask, but instead of waiting for a response, I turn my head and kiss her on the lips. 

When we finally break apart, she looks at me and smiles. “Yes.”

I sit up and look at her, with a very serious expression on my face. This could save my ass. “So, can we remember this the next time I do something bad?” 

“Like a Get-out-of-jail-free card?”

“Yes. You could make up certificates and when I do something good you give me one.”

“And when you do something bad…”

“I have to give one back. Think about it; this could work.”

“And what happens when you’re out of cards but you do something bad?”

“Then you forgive me anyway because of the thing?” I ask cautiously.

“Yes, then I forgive you anyway because of the thing.”

**********

“Stay over there.”

“But, Donna…”

“Don’t whine.”

“You promised.”

“You can’t be trusted.”

 

“I didn’t promise to be trust worthy, you did promise I could hold you.”

“Josh, we’ve had this movie since Thursday. It’s Sunday night. They’re going to haul us off to jail if we don’t return it, and I’ve still only seen 20 minutes of it.”

“You can watch it, but you promised I could hold you.”

“If I let you hold me, can you behave?”

“No.”

“Then you have to stay over there.”

“Yes, I meant yes. I can behave.”

“Too late, you said ‘no.’”

“But you promised.”

“Whining.”

He’s very quiet for a minute. Then he announces, “I have an idea!” I look over at him. Shit. I never should’ve looked; he’s using his dimples.

“Not fair, Joshua.”

”What?” He acts so coy. “I have a really good idea, don’t you want to hear it?”

No. Be strong Donna. You are not a man. You can beat this. They’re dimples, nothing more. You can do this. Be tough. “Let’s hear it.” Damn.

“We’ll negotiate.”

“We’ll negotiate?”

“Yes. I get to hold you, but I have no access to your face. This way, you can see the movie.”

Look away from the dimples. “Go on…” Crap.

“I do have access to…the rest of you.” He says waiving his hands around my body. “Waist up of course.” 

He’s not letting up on the dimples. I’m folding. “No ears.”

“Unacceptable. I have to have access to the ears.”

“But I have to be able to hear.”

“You can hear with the other ear. I only need one at a time.”

I can’t believe I’m negotiating movie-foreplay. “No breasts.”

“I need the breasts. They’re very important.”

“It’s too hard to concentrate on other things when the breasts are involved.”

“I’m ok with that.”

“Joshua…”

“Ok, how about this? Hand on breast action only. No mouth.”

I appear to think about this for a minute, although he and I both know I’ve lost. “Hand action is ok, I guess. But no tickling.”

”I can live with that.”

“And no hair massages.”

“Hair massages?”

“Yes, you put your hands in my hair and massage my scalp. It’s distracting.”

“I have to have access to the hair Donna. My hands are captivated by it.” 

“I don’t have a problem with the hair, but no massaging.”

“Ok, no massaging. Although, I might need reminders about that one.”

“Fine.”

“Ok, so I get breast and torso action, hand only. I have complete access to the neck, ear and collarbone area, as well as the hair, but no massaging and no tickling. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” I reach out my hand and we shake on it.


	15. What We Do

"Are you sure?" I've been trying for three days; she still isn't caving.

"Yes, Josh. I'm positive."

"I'm just thinking about your leg; I could be helpful." Why doesn't she see this my way?

"You most certainly could not be helpful."

"Donna!"

"What I meant was that although you are a wonderful and helpful person, you would not be helpful in this specific situation."

"Donna, I do it everyday, I think I could help you do it." That's logical.

"Joshua Lyman, put those dimples away…. I'm not looking." She closed her eyes, no fair.

"We could do it together, it would save time." See, logical again.

"You think doing it together would save time? You don't think we'd get…distracted?"

"We would focus." I'm not saying what I'd focus on, but I would definitely focus.

"Like we did last night during the movie…again."

"I was extremely focused on what I was doing during the movie." Is it my fault she lost focus on what she was doing, again?

"Yes, yes you were." Damn right I was. "But that doesn't change the fact that it's Tuesday and we still haven't watched it."

Ok, so we still have the movie. In fact, we've had it for five days and we're not quite half way through it. I think before it's all said and done, I'll end up buying it. Small price to pay if you ask me.

"Please, please, please let me help." That sounded not only eager, but also somewhat desperate.

"Let's say I accept your offer. How long do you think it would take you to… help me?" I love our secret code words; it's what we do.

I look her over. "I don't know, an hour maybe."

"An hour! I can do it in fifteen minutes."

"Well, I would want to be thorough," I say as I smirk a little.

"So instead of saving time, it would actually take longer?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Technicalities.

"I'm going in now. Alone."

"Fine, but I'm asking again tomorrow." You offer to help an injured woman shower, and see where it gets you.

**********

"I'm glad I got you alone, I need your help," I say when after we order. CJ and I are at lunch, celebrating the fact that today at torture therapy, Helga the Horrible, whose real name is Rebecca, gave me clearance for part-time cane use. Take that, Amy Cruella Gardner.

"What's up?" she asks excitedly.

"Sam and Josh have developed a schedule."

"What kind of schedule?"

"A relationship schedule. It's like a time line."

"For whose relationship?" I look pointedly at her. "Not yours and Josh's? Please tell me you aren't letting Josh and Sam plan your future."

"I told you I need your help." This is CJ's sort of thing. I secretly believe she would've been a spy if it weren't for her height making her stand out.

"Ok, don't panic. What do we know?"

"Something is happening on November 13th."

"What's November 13th?"

"Three months after we started dating. Also, something is going on with the number 5. It could be the 5th, it could be at 5 weeks, 5 months, or 5 years, I have no idea."

"What else?"

"Friday is the `love' day. That's all I know."

"The `love' day?"

"The day Josh is going to tell me he loves me for the first time."

"They scheduled the first admission of love?"

"Yes, and if they scheduled that, what else did they schedule?"

"Well, we've got to figure that out, and then figure out where those things fall on this schedule." She gets out a pen and notebook. "Ok, there's love. There's meeting the family, there's engagement, there's sex, there's marriage, there's kids, there's moving in, there's…"

"Kids?" I practically scream. We're not even to waist-down action yet, and CJ's talking about kids?

"Kids."

"Sam and Josh are planning out my kids?"

"Possibly."

"We've got to get a hold of this list, CJ."

**********

"So, I hear you went grocery shopping." CJ says on our way to leave senior staff on Wednesday.

"You sound shocked," I say with a hint of laughter in my voice.

"I'm shocked to find out you know where a grocery store is, the fact that you went to it is beyond shocking. It's…"

"Are you impressed?" I ask a bit smugly.

"I'm scared is what I am. Although more about the blow-drying than the shopping."

"She told you about the blow-drying?" I choke out. I think I'm going to be ill.

"Yes she did," she says raising her eyebrows and giving me an evil smile.

"Any chance you're…"

"Going to keep that to myself? That's up to you?" Up to me? I'm scared.

"What do you want?" I ask hesitantly.

"What's happening on…" she looks around. What is she, a spy? "November 13th?"

I swallow hard. Donna was paying attention to my conversation with Sam on Sunday. Why am I shocked? "November 13th?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Josh. I need details."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say innocently as Toby walks by.

"Toby, you'll never guess what Josh did on Sunday." Toby stops and stares at us.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," I say to CJ. "Don't do anything drastic."

"November 13th, Josh."

I have to think about this. For one thing, I can't give the details of the schedule to CJ, she'll no doubt tell Donna. They're attached at the hip. On the other hand, I can't have CJ tell Toby about the blow-drying. What do I do?

"November 13th…" I say, stalling. "There's nothing to it." I'm starting to sweat. "We're just trying to find a time for Donna and me to go visit Sam and his new girlfriend."

CJ looks at me carefully, and then turns to Toby. "Josh begged Donna to let him blow-dry her hair on Sunday. He's apparently obsessed with it and can't keep his hands out of it. According to Donna, he used the low setting and was very careful." Then she looks at me. "Next time I ask you a question, don't lie to me." She walks calmly into Leo's office as I stare after her in disbelief and Toby looks at the ground, stifling a laugh.

**********

"Did you get anything?" she asks as I walk by her desk.

"No, but I scared him. Next time I ask something, he'll answer the question."

"What did you do?" she asks me excitedly. She and I were meant for this. We're like Sydney Bristow. Well, except that neither of us is dating Michael Vaughn, hottie CIA agent.

"I told Toby about the blow-drying."

Her eyes get huge and she tries not to laugh. "CJ, I'm going to get into trouble for that. He already calls me Judas."

"Ahh, the pet names have begun." This time she does laugh.

"Don't worry. He won't say a word about it."

"He won't?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because to do so, he'd have to bring up November 13th."

She smiles and shakes her head. "And he won't do that because then I'll ask about it."

"Right."

"So he'll play dumb and I'll play dumb, and we'll both pretend it's not out there." Kind of like they did with their feelings for seven years.

"Yes, but you know what this means." I say quietly.

"We're going to have to go through Sam," she says nodding. "He's weak, he'll never be able to withstand you."

"He won't know what hit him."


	16. What We Do

Ok, time to get to work. Not government work, mind you. Spy work. I made a mistake earlier; Sydney Bristow would not have been impressed. I underestimated Josh’s immunity towards embarrassment. I should have known he’d rather me tell Toby about the blow-drying than tell me about the schedule. He’s been made fun of and embarrassed so many times in his life, it obviously doesn’t bother him anymore.

Now I have to go after Sam. Poor Sam, he’s no match for me. The truth is, it’s not even that much fun to go after him, he’s simply not a challenge. Of course, Josh is going to try to get to him first, so that’s a bit of a challenge. But I’m covered. I have Donna distracting him. I didn’t ask how she was going to distract him; I don’t have the stomach for that kind of information. I’ll just leave the details, so to speak, up to her.

I’ve got to call now if I’m going to get him before Josh. If Josh gets him first, he’ll tell him to avoid my calls, it would be his only chance at survival. I look over at the clock; it’s only 5:15 in California. I’m going to wake him up, which I should feel bad about. Don’t worry, I’m not going soft; I don’t actually feel bad, I just know I should feel bad. Big difference. 

“For the love of God, Josh. Please follow the calling rules,” he says as he picks up.

Ok, so this has apparently happened before. “Sam, it’s me. CJ.” 

“CJ?” He sounds groggy. Oops. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, well… yeah.” I’m putting on my tentative voice. My ‘I don’t really want to talk about it – you’d better drag it out of me’ voice.

“CJ, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing Sam, you don’t need to worry about it. I just called… how’s California?”

“CJ, tell me what’s wrong. You don’t call this early unless it’s important, what is it?”

I take a deep breath and sigh into the phone. “Well… you do know that Josh and Donna are dating now?”

“Yeah, it’s great isn’t it? You did awesome with the press the other day.”

“Thanks, I’m just… worried I guess.”

“Worried about what? Is the press starting something?”

“No, not yet. I just… you know what? It’s not that big of a deal.”

“CJ, this is Josh you’re talking about. He’s my best friend. Tell me.”

Poor, poor Sam. “I’m just… I don’t want this to get back to them Sam. They shouldn’t have to worry about this so early in their relationship.”

“Absolutely CJ, I won’t say a word.” Sucker.

“Well, they seem to be making up for lost time. I’m worried that if they move at the speed I think they’re going to move, it’ll look to the press like they’ve been together longer than they have, and rumors will start.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” he says triumphantly. 

“Yes I do Sam, that’s my job.”

“No, I mean they aren’t going to move that fast. Josh and I talked about it. I’m slowing him down.”

Slowing him down? This sounds like the blind leading the blind. “What do you mean?”

“Come on CJ, you know Josh. Now that he finally has what he wants, he wants it all.”

“Exactly, that’s why I’m worried.”

“I’ve taken care of it. I slowed him down and put him on a schedule.”

Sit Ubu, sit. Good dog. “How much have you slowed him down?” I ask innocently.

“He wanted to proposed Friday.”

“Friday?” I scream into the phone. Holy shit, maybe I should be worried about the press and rumors.

“Don’t worry, I postponed it.”

“To when?”

“I can’t tell…”

I cut him off. “Sam, I need to know what’s going on. You know that.” It is so wrong of me to play my Press Secretary card, but hey, that’s how you get the job done.

He sighs. “This is top secret stuff CJ."

"Of course." not.

"He’s going to proposed November 13th. It’s their three-month anniversary. I tried for 6 months, but there was no way.”

Ahh, the infamous November 13th mystery solved. I wonder if he’ll really have the nerve to do it. “What else, Sam?”

“He’s asking her to move in with him in 5 weeks.”

“Five weeks from the marriage proposal?”

“No, five weeks from the day they started dating. I know it’s soon, it could stir something in the press, but that’s the best I could do. He wanted to ask her on Sunday when I talked to him on the phone. He’s spent every night at her place for the last week.”

Wow. They’ve really thought this through. “So, September 17th.” I say looking at my calendar and jotting it down. “Ok, that’s good to know. I can spearhead that. Anything else I need to know?” I laugh a bit at him. “You and Josh haven’t set the wedding date or planned the first pregnancy have you?”

“Umm…”

“You have?” I scream again. I was just kidding when I said that to Donna yesterday.

“I had to, CJ. Otherwise, he would’ve proposed to her that morning and booked them on the first flight to Vegas. We don’t want that, do we?”

“But, but… you set the wedding date? Don’t you think Donna would want some say in that?” I am freaking out here. I thought this was going to be a fun little game. This is serious shit.

“Well, she gets to say when they have sex.”

“How nice of you to allow her to decide that,” I say sarcastically. “When’s the wedding, Sam?”

“February 13th, their 6 month anniversary. It’s a Sunday, but he wouldn’t budge, he wants the anniversary. We booked the Chesapeake Bay Beach Club, which is quite beautiful, we researched it online and they have their own wedding coordinator. He’s thinking small: her parents, his mom, all of you guys and me. He’s already cleared the next week off with Leo for their honeymoon; Maui. He has reservations at The Fairmont Kea Lani, one of their honeymoon suites, it’s a five star resort, I’m a little jealous.”

“Are you kidding me?” I can’t believe this. I’m hyperventilating.

“No. He’s been ring shopping while Donna’s at physical therapy. I did get him to wait a while on kids, though.”

I pound my head on the desk. This is not happening. “And when will they start trying, Sam?”

“July of 2006, so she doesn’t give birth until you’re out of the White House. Plus, he doesn’t want her so big that she can’t do their walk and talk. But he said if she wants to go back to school after the administration, they can wait another year or two.”

I’m going to pass out.

**********

I cane myself into Josh’s office around lunchtime and plop down into the visitor’s chair. He’s looking at a file and arguing with a senator on the phone, and he’s hands down winning the argument. He’s obviously all worked up, because his hair is sticking up in about ten different directions, his shirt sleeves are rolled about half way up to his elbows, and his tie is pulled loose and is crooked. Yeah, I want him bad right now.

He looks up from the file and sees me staring at him. He’s obviously learned the specific facial expression I have right now that I no longer hide around him, the ‘I want to ravish you right now’ expression, because he’s smirking at me, which only makes him look sexier. It’s sickening how sexy I find his ego.

He puts his hand over the receiver and whispers, “Anything I can help you with?” in a very low, husky voice that I only recently got to start hearing. I can’t even speak at this point, so I just lick my lips and nod. This lip-licking thing must get to him as well, because he opens his eyes really wide and takes a deep breath.

Ten minutes later, we’re in his car making-out like sixteen year olds with a curfew. Forget lunch; forget that fact that we’re in the parking lot of the White House, the White House, people, the White House. Forget that I have a meeting on the hill in two hours about the arts in education bill or that he has a meeting on the hill in two hours about the never-ending tobacco lawsuit. In fact, right now, let’s forget everything except the feel of his hands in my hair and his tongue in my mouth. Yes, let’s do that.

“My hair, Josh.” I somehow manage to get out.

“The comb, Donna,” he says as he moves from my mouth to my ear.

“Right.” After that, there’s no talking for a while. 

**********

Donna and I both have meetings on the hill today at 3:00. This makes me a little giddy. My woman- the brilliant, sexy, sassy political operative; just thinking of it makes me want to pull over and take her right here on Pennsylvania Ave. It’s amazing that I’ve kept my hands off of her all these years, but now I find it difficult to drive the one mile to the Capitol without stopping for a make-out break.

She’s sitting next to me right now, going over her notes, and I’m mesmerized by the simple presence of her. She’s biting her lip like she does when she concentrates, she keeps pushing her hair behind ears, and she’s tapping her pencil on the folder. 

“Are you staring at me?” she asks, still looking at her notes. How does she know me so well?

“I can’t help it, you’re amazing.”

She smiles, but still looks at her notes. “I believe you called me Judas on Sunday, but today I’m amazing?”

“You’re amazing, even when you are being Judas.” She laughs a little bit but doesn’t say anything. “Speaking of Judas, you and CJ aren’t plotting anything, are you?”

She stops tapping her pencil. “Would you care to be more specific?”

Ooh. She’s upped the ante. This is what we do. She knows about the CJ thing; I can see the smile on her face. But we both know I can’t say anything about it without bringing up the schedule. She’s itching for information, which reminds me, I need to call Sam and tell him not to takes any phone calls from CJ. Let’s face it; he’ll spill. He’s weak, he can’t hold his own when it comes to CJ. Basically, Sam and me vs. Donna and CJ is like a football game between the Lakers and the Packers. Sam and I are great at the game we play, but we can’t play their game. Our only hope is to keep him off the phone. We’re lucky that she’s three time zones away and can’t cause him bodily harm. “Nothing specific, I was just wondering if the two of you were up to anything.”

“Nothing I can think of,” she says with an even bigger grin.

Judas I tell you, Judas.


	17. What We Do

So I’m just starting to wonder where Josh is when he throws my office door open so hard that it hits the opposite wall and knocks down a picture I just hung up the other day. I mean really, it’s 5:25 in the evening, and I talked to Sam at 8:15 this morning. What took him so long? For all he knows, I already spilled the beans to Donna.

Here’s the thing though. I can’t tell her that stuff. I know it goes against the sisterhood, but it would ruin the surprises Josh has in store for her. My original thought was to blab all, but then I got on the Chesapeake Bay Beach Club web site, and it’s really a stunning place to have the wedding. After that, I went to expedia.com. and checked out the five star Fairmont Kea Lani resort in Maui; gorgeous!!!!! And the fact that Josh has planned all this… well that’s the most amazing part. Let’s be realistic, Josh needs Donna to plan his trips to the dry cleaners. He’s helpless. Yet somehow, he planned this for her to surprise and show her how much he loves her. I can’t ruin it, sisterhood or not.

Now, back to the story. Josh is standing in the doorway to my office, panting and pretty much freaking out, which tells me he finally got a hold of Sam and came running full speed to my office from wherever he was, which I think was the hill. So now, the obvious question… how am I going to use this to my advantage? Oh yeah, and did he leave his car and Donna at the Capitol?

“You’re hanging that back up,” I say calmly, looking back down at this damn solitaire game. I’ve been on this game for four days and I can’t beat this damn computer. It’s rigged I tell you, rigged!

“Did you tell her?” He’s panting and sweating. It’s pretty gross. What’s even worse is the fact that I’m fairly certain the sight of him would turn on Donna right now, and that thought makes me nauseous.

This should be fun. “Tell who what?”

“CJ, don’t play dumb…” he says, putting his hands on his knees and leaning over, taking large gulps of air. “I know you talked to Sam.” Did he run here from the Capitol? It’s almost a hundred degrees out there and he’s wearing a suit.

“Well Josh, I don’t know who or what you’re talking about, but I can tell you that Donna and I are the best of friends and we like to share what we know with each other.”

He walks in the room and closes the door, still trying to catch his breath. “This is serious CJ.” 

 

“So I gathered by my conversation with your accomplice. Pardon me, but I think a woman has the right to know if she’s getting married in less than six months.” Now this is a game I can win.

“So you told her?” He looks panicked.

I sigh. “No, not yet.”

“Thank God. CJ, you can’t tell her.”

“That’s not the way I see it.” This is fun. 

He looks at me for several long moments, and I can tell he’s eyeing the opposition. “CJ, how many times have you told me I don’t deserve her? How many times have you told me that she shouldn’t have to run my life? How many times have you told me I should do nice things for her?”

Like he can get me with the romantic angle. Well yeah, he already did, but he doesn’t know that. “Nice try.”

He pauses again, contemplating his next move. “I can always bump up the plan right now and propose to her when I go back to the Capitol to pick up her and the car. How will an engagement six days into the relationship look?”

I nod, as if to say ‘Solid move, my worthy opponent.’ I get up and walk around to the front of my desk to where he’s standing. “I’ll have called her before you get there to do it.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I’ll call her and propose on the phone right now,” he says as he pulls his cell out of his pocket.

He wouldn’t be that tacky, right? “You’re bluffing, that would be the world’s worst proposal. Even you aren’t that bad.”

He takes a deep breath and grits his teeth at me, then puts the phone back in his clip. “CJ, how long do you think it will take me to blow the surprise on my own?”

What’s he getting at? “Another week, maybe two.”

“Wouldn’t you rather see me embarrass myself?” I look at him skeptically. “Think of it CJ. You know I’m going to spill it to the President on accident one day in senior staff. Imagine how embarrassed I’m going to be when I realize I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth. Can’t you picture me the next time we’re all out and I spill my guts after two measly beers? Or what about the next time Donna and I are… kissing… or whatever? And she asks then, do you think I’ll be able to keep the secret? Or what about when she uses her pout and gets it out of me? Now CJ, I know you don’t understand this, but I recently found out that she has a level five pout and now I’m spending Christmas in Wisconsin. It’s only a matter of time till I get the pout. Wouldn’t you get more enjoyment out of my humiliation than out of telling her?”

He has a very good point with this one. Watching a humiliated Josh is like eating chocolate. That’s why I haven’t told Charlie about Josh blow-drying Donna’s hair yet. I wanted to wait until Josh was around, so I could witness the embarrassment, it’s much better that way. “No deal, you can’t guarantee I’ll be there for it. If you could guarantee me seeing it, we’d have a deal. But you can’t. You could screw up anytime.”

He takes a deep breath. “Fine. What do you want, CJ?”

I squint my eyes at him. “What are you offering?”

He thinks for a minute. “A new outfit. You pick it out and give me the bill.”

“You think I would sell her out for an outfit?” I act mortified.

“The outfit of your choice, CJ.”

“And accessories?”

“Accessories?”

“A purse and jewelry to match.”

“Do you really need a purse and jewelry?”

“Do you really need me to keep my mouth shut?”

 

He grits his teeth at me again and runs his hand across his face. “Fine, accessories too.” He turns to leave.

“And shoes. Manolo Blahnik.”

“Ma-what? What are those?”

“Shoes, they cost about $500 a pair.”

“What? No way!”

“Well then…” I say reaching for my phone.

“Fine!” He screams, grabbing the phone from my hands and throwing it on my desk as if it were kryptonite. “A new outfit, with accessories, and Mo-whatever shoes.”

He opens the door and starts to walk out. “One more thing Josh.”

He turns back and hangs his head. “What?”

“I want to see this ring before you buy it.”

He chuckles a bit for the first time since he walked in here. “I’m not an idiot, CJ. I was going to narrow it down to five or six and then take you to help me make the final choice.”

“Now see, that should have been the first thing you mentioned. It would’ve been enough to keep my mouth shut.”

 

“What?” I love it when I can make him do the voice thing.

“Too late now,” I singsong. “I know what you’re willing to give.”

He shakes his head and leaves, closing the door behind him, and I’m left with a nagging thought; does he give in this easy when he’s negotiating legislation?

**********

Josh and I are at his place tonight. He fell asleep at my place last Wednesday, during Jaws, and hasn’t slept at home since. He thought he should check his mail, make sure nothing’s rotting in the kitchen, water his one plant, etc. You’ll be happy to hear that the BBQ sauce and Pepto-Bismol are both ok.

Josh has a great apartment. For one thing, it’s about three times the size of mine. It has a huge kitchen, and a spare bedroom that he uses as an office; there’s even a dining room. His building also has an elevator, which is helpful right now. It’s nice, that’s all I’m saying. 

Why am I bringing this up, you ask? Well, Josh has spent the night at my place every night since we started dating. I’m just thinking it won’t be too long before we might want to consider moving in together and saving some money on rent. More specifically, saving me money on rent. I was hoping to get some answers on the move-in from CJ, but she hasn’t gotten in touch with Sam concerning the schedule. I think Josh might have gotten to him first and told him to avoid CJ's calls

Now you might think that I’m getting ahead of myself. I mean really, am I sure I want to live with Josh Lyman? Is there such a thing as too much Josh? For most human beings, yes. For me, no. See, I’ve seen him as bad as he gets, I’m not afraid of living with him. Josh, at his worst, is still the man of my…. whoa. What the hell is that? “Wow,” I say somewhat shaky as I walk into his bedroom. “That is one ugly comforter.” I mean, oh yuck. Who picked that out, Amy?

He comes up behind me, kissing my neck. “We can get a new one,” he mumbles, while continuing with the licking and biting going on.

I’m so caught up in what’s happening to my neck and… yes, there go his hands up the front of my shirt, that it takes me a minute to really grasp what he just said. I wonder if he even realizes the implications… never mind, I can’t think any more. 

I take a deep breath and lean my head back, just letting Josh do his thing. Now I know we’ve discussed Josh’s amazing kissing abilities. We’ve also discussed his outstanding hand-in-hair/massaging technique. What we have not discussed, and this is important, is his unparalleled breast expertise. This man can make me feel things that…well, you’ve heard about Friday night’s orgasm. 

See, he does this thing with his tongue, it’s kind of a swirl and it zero’s in on the target, if you know what I mean. And sometimes he licks and then blows cool air, which makes me shiver…well, everywhere. Also, there’s the matter of his teeth. To tell the truth, I’ve never been a fan of teeth on breast action. Let’s face it…that’s a sensitive area. You get some guy who’s a little teeth happy, and erotic pain suddenly turns into ‘get the hell off me’ pain. I mean... there’s a reason I’ve never had that area pierced, you know what I’m saying? Have you met this man, “Mr. Teeth?” I have. I won’t mention any names, but I will say this… he once tried to have me put in jail for perjury, and last week, he watched me knock over a display of Hershey’s candy bars and didn’t help me pick them up. Josh, however, has exceeded all expectations and calmed all fears in regards to the teeth on breast action. He does a scraping thing, and nibble thing, a thing where he traps…it… between his top teeth and lower lip. I’m a fan of all three.

Then there’s his palm and fingers. He rolls, he pinches, but not too hard, he brushes up against, and he massages. When he has a hand on one breast and his mouth on the other, well, I don’t even know what to pay attention to. It’s like an overloading of the senses, which is exactly what led to last Friday night’s…incident. 

So, here I stand in Josh’s bedroom, trying desperately to keep my eyes closed so I don’t have to look at the comforter from hell, that I’m just gonna go ahead and blame on Amy, as Josh stands behind me with his tongue and teeth on my neck and his hands on my breasts, and I’ve got to tell you, it’s getting hard to stand. 

**********

“Josh, my leg.” That came out as a moan, and for a second I have no idea what she’s talking about. Then I remember; bombing, hospital, two days of cane use. 

“Right, sorry,” I mumble without moving or stopping in any way. She has me mesmerized; I can’t help it. When I do these things to her, she makes these little squeals and squeaks and moans; it drives me crazy. I lose all thought process.

Then I feel her shift her weight, and the moan turns into one of pain. I stand upright abruptly and help her to the bed. Then I kneel down in front of her and take her leg in my hands. “I’m sorry, are you ok?”

She must hear the worry in my voice, because she smiles one of those thousand watt smiles at me and puts her hand on my shoulder. And it occurs to me, I worry and she reassures me, that's what we do. “I’m ok, Josh. It was just starting to hurt a little. No harm done.”

“You’re sure?” I ask, running my hands lightly over her leg.

“I’m sure. I liked what you were doing so much that I barely noticed it,” she says, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

I start to play along. “Really, because I can continue that on the bed,” I say as I bring my head closer to hers and take her bottom lips between my teeth lightly. 

We continue to make-out like that, her sitting on the bed, me kneeling between her legs for several more minutes. At first my knees hurt a bit, but then they go numb and the pain disappears. It takes me a while to realize that my hands are running up and down her thighs, and that the little squeaks and squawks are back. Hmm…maybe it’s time to move to the waist-down portion of the relationship.

The waist-down portion of a relationship is an important step. Men, you know what I’m talking about. This is an easy thing to mess-up. First of all, you have to make sure she wants and is ready for waist-down action to begin. Of course, you can’t ask her. ‘Excuse me, would it be ok if while rubbing my hands up and down your legs, I just kept going up… you know, to see what I might find?’ Not a great question to ask, am I right? But, you can’t wait so long that she has to ask you. ‘Excuse me, are you just planning on toying with me for the rest of our lives, or do you actually plan on bringing me some sort of pleasure?’ No man wants to be asked that question. Also, you need to know what you’re doing…there. You can’t just put your hand in a girl’s pants and expect it to find it’s own way. There are… buttons, and… zippers, and... well that's just getting there. Then, once you get there, there are... things, and... crevices, and… well you know, other parts. Plus, you have to be gentle, but you can’t be a pansy-ass. You need to be firm enough, but not painfully firm. You have to learn, and learn quickly, what this particular woman wants and likes, and you can’t assume that just because she makes noises, she likes what you’re doing. If you’re not doing it right, she might just want you out of there.

Really what you’re hoping for is a subtle hint from the woman that says ‘yes, you may enter’ as well as other subtle hints that you’re doing it correctly, like fingernails pressing into your shoulders, shallow breathing, the thrown-back head, the frantic can’t-get-enough-of-your-mouth kissing, or the glazed over eyes. If you’re not getting these signs, go to the local bookstore and do some research.

And there it is gentlemen; I just got my green light. It came in the form of her putting her hand on top of mine and guiding it higher than I was going while at the same time spreading her legs a little wider to make my journey a bit easier. So anyway, I’m going to need to concentrate here, I’m gonna have to let you go. We’ll discuss how it went at a later date.


	18. What We Do

I’m lying here with Josh, in the middle of the night, just listening to him breathe. I’m so overwhelmed by what happened earlier that I can’t sleep, so I’m just listening. It’s not like that’s the first time I’ve ever done that, or had that done to me, but it’s never been…like that. I’ve had men do that to me to give me pleasure, and I’ve had men do that to me to get me ready for what came next, but that particular act has never felt like love before last night, even when I was in love. When you step back and think about it, digital stimulation is just that. It’s not a connection of souls, it’s not a joint activity, it’s not flowers and soft music, and although it can be sexy, it can just as easily be a means to an end. But with Josh, it was different. It was slow and deliberate. It was about watching my face and whispering in my ear. Instead of being about the end result, it was about learning what I liked and making me feel it time and again. It wasn’t so much about bringing me pleasure as it was about bringing him pleasure to please me, and in the end, that made it all the better. Does that make sense? 

And somehow, when I reciprocated, it was still about me. I don’t even know how that’s possible, but it wasn’t ‘oh baby’ or ‘that feels so good’. Even as my hand touched him, it wasn’t enough. He still had to have his lips on mine, he still had to have his hand in my hair, he still searched out my eyes with his own. He had to be connected to me, he needed me to feel his heart rate speed up, needed me to know that I did this to him. Only at the very end, when it became too much for him, did he close his eyes, and even then he held me tight against his chest and told me I was beautiful. And instead of feeling like someone who had just performed that activity, I felt like someone who had loved the man she was with. 

So here I am, in the middle of the night, wide-awake. I’m not sure what time it is, because my face is buried in his neck, so I can’t see the alarm clock, but I don’t care if I’m a complete zombie all day tomorrow, I just want to lie here and feel him.

Now we should talk about this sleeping position, you and I. Most women would tell you that they prefer either the spooning position or the blanket position when in bed with a man, and I would agree that both of these positions have merit. The spooning position, for instance, is initiated by the man. The man desires contact, so he molds his body to hers and holds her from the back. In the spooning position, a woman feels wanted. She also feels protected. Her man is watching over her, he is surrounding her and securing her. In this position, she feels safe. However, she may feel somewhat at his mercy. If any sort of morning “activities” were to take place, it’s much harder for the woman to participate while in this position. If you have any questions about that, please refer to not-getting-out-of-bed Sunday. 

In the blanket position, otherwise known as the head-on-chest-leg-between-his-legs position, or the most popular variation of that, the head-in-armpit-hand-on-chest-leg-between-his-legs position, the woman is often the initiator. She goes to him, or he pulls her half on top of him, letting her drape him with her warmth. Now, this position is a bit sexier than the spooning position, and brings a feeling of laziness and contentment, as though she’s being used as blanket. Instead of his body molding to hers, her body molds to his. Also, when it comes to morning “activities,” the woman has the upper hand; she’s in control. However, the woman may not feel as desired in this position. Often times she has to use it as a substitute for the ‘no, you can’t just roll over to your own side of the bed and pretend you’re alone’ discussion.

I enjoy both of these sleeping positions, but neither is my favorite. My favorite position, at least with Josh, is the much less popular ‘pretzel’ position. In the pretzel position, both the man and woman are on their sides, but facing each other. The woman’s head fits perfectly in the neck area of the man, his chin is resting on top of her head. The man holds the woman with one arm around the torso, usually around the upper chest, unconsciously pulling her close to him, and she holds him likewise around the waist. This position definitely calls for the sharing of the pillow, which is a sure sign of trust and love. Legs are usually stacked or curled around each other, and it’s hard to tell where one of them begins and the other ends. This position calls for the most contact, and tends to be the warmest. It allows for the man to kiss the woman’s head and the woman to kiss the man’s neck without even moving. But my favorite thing about it is that it’s a joint effort; the man and woman equally pull to each other. 

Does this position have drawbacks? Of course it does. The woman must be careful not to suffocate from lack of oxygen. Lack of oxygen could lead to completely incoherent thoughts, such as the logistics of sleeping positions. 

**********

Ok, that’s not fair. She can’t deny my request to help in the shower, again, and then get undressed for said shower right here in the bedroom. Is she allowed to do that? Isn’t that a form of torture in some countries?

Not that I’m complaining about naked Donna. I’ve seen “Seinfield.” I know all about good naked and bad naked. And believe me when I tell you… Donna is good naked. I’m seeing nothing bad here, although I’m not sure I’ve breathed since she took off her pajamas. This is my first sighting of completely naked Donna. But after last night, it would seem stupid for her to go into the bathroom to undress. It’s like, you do that, and you’ve bumped up the intimacy a few levels.

“Do you enjoy torturing me?” I ask groaning into the pillow.

She looks at me and smiles innocently. “Of course I do. You know that.” Yes I do, and the truth is, I wouldn’t want her any other way. She tortures me; I let her. That’s what we do.

“What if told you that you couldn’t help me in the shower and then got naked right in front of you?”

She stifles a laugh. “Somehow I don’t see that happening.”

She’s right of course, I could never deny her if she wanted to touch me. I can picture it now. I go into the oval office to leave something for the President, she walks up behind me and whispers in my ear that she wants to have sex on his desk. The next thing I know, I’m job hunting. Even before we were dating, had she ever just gotten sick of the games and shoved me against the door, I would have been putty. Of course, I don’t tell her that. “I have self-control when it comes to you.”

“Really? So, if I…say… laid back down. All naked like this. And I stretched…like this.” Oh God, I’m going to die. “And then I looked at you and…” she just licked her lips.

Suddenly I’m breathing heavier and I’m next to her on the bed in record time, kissing her shoulders and neck, one hand on her neck, one down by her belly button. I start to let my hand drift even further south when she puts her hand over it and stills it. “I have physical therapy in 45 minutes. We don’t have time to… explore.”

“Donna,” I screech. “That’s not fair! You can’t do that to a man! That’s… that’s… I’m dying.”

“I thought you had self control when it came to me,” she says innocently.

“I thought you knew I was lying,” I say with a groan.

She sits up and smiles at me. “I’m sorry, I was mean. I shouldn’t do that to you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” I whine.

She raises her eyebrows at me and puts her finger in her mouth. I must have her now. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Can we… explore tonight when we get home?” 

She reaches down and kisses me, long and warm and soft, chewing on my lower lip for several seconds. “I think we could work something out.” 

“No teasing?” 

“Well, maybe a little teasing, but I promise you’ll like it,” says and kisses me again. Then she gets up and heads for the bathroom. I jump out of the bed get her walker from the corner. “What are you doing?”

I smile at her and throw on a t-shirt. “I’m going to make breakfast while you’re in the shower.”

She raises her eyebrows at me. “Really? And how do you plan to do that?” 

I smirk at her. I know that my fridge only has two things in it. Pepto-Bismol and BBQ sauce. Pepto-Bismol for medicinal purposes and BBQ sauce because it’s the perfect condiment and I often put it on my take-out. I don’t like to keep a lot in my fridge. There’s nothing worse in the world than having something go bad in there. You don’t know what it is, you search and search, all the while the smell goes from bad to worse until it leaks out from the fridge and takes over the kitchen. Then, you’re forced to buy scented girly candles until the day you give up and sell your condo. “There’s a Starbuck’s on the corner.”

“You said you’d make breakfast, that’s not making breakfast.”

“It’s making breakfast appear.” I kiss her on the forehead, throw on a t-shirt and some jeans and run out the door.

**********

“Did you mean it when you said we could get a new comforter?” I ask while we’re driving to my appointment. I don’t want to scare him or freak him out, but I’ve been making a mental list of things I wouldn’t mind changing about his apartment. The first item on the list is the comforter. New sheets would be nice too, but the comforter is more important. I’m also thinking of totally re-doing the bathroom colors. Right now, the walls are white and he has a blue plastic shower curtain. Actually, I think it’s just a curtain liner. Men.

“Sure, we can get anything you want,” he says, picking up my hand from his leg and kissing my palm. Wow, he was very calm about that. Once, when he was dating the hussy, she brought an afghan to his place for the back of his couch and they got in a huge fight about it. They had been dating for about six months at that point and she had been pushing for the move-in; Josh was adamantly against it. I only remember because I loved it when they fought and he went on for days and days about her trying to change his life. And that was just a blanket for the couch.

I cautiously say, “Maybe we could go shopping for it this weekend.” I don’t want to get too much too soon, but that is one ugly comforter.

“Donna.” Uh-oh, he’s freaking. “Shopping? I hate to shop. Can’t you just get it?”

Ok, he’s not freaking. He just hates to shop, and he makes sure everyone knows it. He’s rude to the sales people, he bitches about lines, he complains about other shoppers, it’s hell to be with the man in a mall or department store. “Believe me, Josh. I don’t enjoy shopping with you anymore than you enjoy shopping, but I’m not picking out things for your place.” 

“Why not, it’ll be yours soo…” he abruptly stops talking.

The car gets really quiet; he stares at the road and I stare at him. Was he just saying what I think he was saying? “Josh?”

“Can we just pretend I didn’t say that?” he asks as he runs his hands through his hair.

“No,” I say as I look straight at him. “We’re talking about it.”

“We can’t.”

“We can’t?” 

“No. Not for four weeks and one day.” What the hell is he talking about?

“Four weeks and one day? What’s in four weeks and one day?”

“That’s five weeks from when we started dating.” 

Ahh, it all becomes clear to me. “The schedule?”

“Yes.”

“And according to the schedule…”

“I can’t ask you until we’ve been dating for five weeks.”

This schedule is some serious shit. “I see. Are you going to be ready to ask me in four weeks and a day? You won’t feel rushed?”

He glances at me and smiles, suddenly much more relaxed. He must’ve thought I was going to freak out. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it that long.”

At that, I smile, lean over and kiss his cheek. Josh and I are moving in together in a month. How ‘bout that? “Ok, but we’re going to need new sheets and a real shower curtain, plus the comforter, and we’re picking it all out together. Also, we’re getting groceries.”

“Groceries!” he screeches. Why is it that I just mentioned   
redecorating, but all he’s worried about are the groceries?

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the fridge never smells bad.”

"Donna, I can't take the smells. You know how I am with fridge smell."

"I know how you are. The fridge will be my domain."

"But the smell Donna."

"It will never smell. I promise."

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

He sighs heavily. "Ok, we can try the grocery thing. But if it ever smells, that's it. No more food in the house."

**********

I walk into the oval office in what can only be described as the absolute best mood of my life. I am in love, I am happy; I have everything I could ever want or need and more. Donna and I have had the cohabitation talk, which went very well, and although I’m being forced to buy groceries and go to Bed, Bath and Beyond this weekend, I think all those things are worth having her with me at all times. Not to mention the fact that I got some last night. We didn’t have sex, technically, but sex-like activities definitely took place. Yes, life is good.

I run into Toby on the way in the room. “I spoke with Sam yesterday,” I casually mention.

“Really? How is he?” he asks me innocently, as though he’s done nothing wrong.

I smile but continue to act nonchalant. “He’s good. Enjoyed the e-mail you sent him.” 

“Well, I feel that it’s my job to keep him informed about everyday White House activities.” 

“And he needed to be informed about Donna and the hair drying?”

He lets one small ‘Toby-like’ chuckle out. “No, that was for sport.”

"You sure didn't wait very long to... update him."

"No. I did it at my first opportunity."

“So I gathered. Did you sport with anyone else about that?”

“It was a blanket e-mail.” He’s kidding, right?

I don’t have a lot of time to ponder the possible catastrophe of the blanket e-mail, because Leo interrupts with, “Good morning everyone, let’s make this quick.” 

There are a round of good mornings and we stand in front of the President’s desk. He was supposed to be in Nigeria this week, but that was postponed due to a tropical storm in the region. The President is reading… who knows what. Probably a book about the decline of forests in Russia during the Soviet empire, and the plan to revitalize the forestry industry there, or something equally as mind numbing. He’s in to all kinds of weird crap like that. What’s worse, Donna probably found the book, read it and recommended it to him, and when he’s done, they’ll discuss it like it was Sunday football. Yes, the love of my life is as much a geek as the President.

I look around the room as he’s reading and notice CJ, Leo, and Toby all with the same ‘please don’t let me be the one he chooses to lecture at about this’ look that I have. We’ve all been there, we’ve all survived, but no one wants to go back in. Finally, he finishes the page he’s on, turns the book over on his desk and looks up at us. Everyone remains quiet, no one stupid enough to ask what it is he’s reading. We all know that only leads to trouble.

“Does anyone know who the 17th mayor of Evansville, Indiana was, and how he became famous?” Everyone groans at his question. We don’t even pretend to be interested anymore. He looks around the room and his eyes stop on Toby. Yes!!!!! “Toby?”

He sighs. “I don’t know, Mr. President. And more to the point, I don’t care.”

He looks at Toby and then at me over his reading glasses like my 8th grade Algebra teacher used to do. “Fine Toby. Josh, Donna and I are discussing this book next week on the way to Nebraska. I’d like you to sit in on that discussion.”

“But…”

“Yes?”

Unbelievable. The two biggest geeks in the world in one room on an airplane. I might need a parachute. “I’m looking forward to it, Sir,” I say with a fake smile in place as Toby laughs at me from his spot on the other side of CJ. 

“Actually Josh, Abbey and I got a present for you and Donna,” he says as he pulls out a wrapped box from under his desk. Wow. The President of the United States of America bought a gift for Donna and me. Our first couple gift. “We should probably wait until she’s here to open it.”

“No, no. We don’t need to do that Sir.” What can I say? I’m like a kid when it comes to… you know… things for me. “She’s at physical therapy until after lunch. I should probably just open it now.”

“Are you sure Josh? I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble,” he says with a gleam in his eye.

“Absolutely Sir,” I say and grab it from his hands. I read the card that says, May this prove enjoyable as your relationship progresses. Jed and Abbey Bartlet. It’s really quite something to think that they bought us this to show they value us as a couple. It’s their way of saying thanks for waiting until the administration could handle this; you deserve all the happiness in the world. I’m touched. 

I tear off the wrapping paper and stare dumbfounded at the box in my hands as horror, disbelief, and finally humiliation wash over me. In the background I hear CJ gasp and start laughing as I stand looking at the blow dryer the President and his wife bought me.


	19. What We Do

“So, tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” CJ asks when I walk into her office.

“Tomorrow?” Is there a vote I don’t know about? I’ve been a little preoccupied lately, but I think I’d know if there was a vote going on tomorrow that I cared about.

“The ‘I love you’ day.”

Oh, of course that’s what she’s talking about. I forgot that, thanks to Sam, CJ knows my entire life plans. “Sam couldn’t have kept one thing to himself?”

“Actually, Donna told me about tomorrow,” she says with a smirk.

“Imagine my surprise.” Donna and CJ are like Thelma and Louise without the crime. Well, I think without the crime. Oh, who am I kidding, there’s probably crime involved. 

She looks up at me expectantly and I look at her the same way. What is she looking at me like that for? “Did you need something, Josh?” Oh, right. I came in here.

 

I can’t believe I’m asking her this; she’s the enemy. Well, she’s not the enemy, but you can be sure that for the rest of our lives, CJ’s going to be on Donna’s side. Not that I’m not on Donna’s side, but should the need arise for sides, and it no doubt will, CJ’s not going to be on mine. True, she’s keeping the schedule a secret, but she’s getting like a thousand dollars worth of clothes and accessories out of the deal. That is not being on my side; that’s blackmail. “I need a favor,” I mumble.

She’s laughing at me. I can see the gleam in her eye. “Name it.”

“First, we have to agree that even if you deny the favor you cannot tell Donna about it.”

“No deal. You’re talking about the Sisterhood, Josh. You’ve already got me keeping a rather large series of secrets from her, I can’t agree to anymore.”

“Fine.” I turn to leave.

“Wait, don’t you want my help?” Hmm, she’s curious. This could work in my favor.

 

“Not if you’re going to tell Donna about it.”

She looks at me and ponders…something. I don’t pretend to understand women. “Does it endanger her at all?”

What the hell? “Endanger her? She’s my future wife, CJ. You think I would endanger her?”

She nods. “Good point. How long does the secret have to continue?”

“The rest of the day.”

She raises her eyebrows. I think I’ve got her. “Well, it’s already 11:30.”

“Then it really only has to last for seven hours.”

“And where’s Donna?” She starts tapping her pencil on her desk.

“Physical therapy and then a meeting on the hill. She won’t be in until at least one, so it’s really only five and a half hours.”

“Hmm…” Come on CJ, you know you want to.

“And, when she does find out about it, she’s going to be excited. It’s more of a surprise than a secret.”

“A surprise? Why didn’t you say that in the first place? I’m in.”

“Ok, good. I gotta go.” I turn to leave. I’ve got a lot to do.

“Wait!”

“What?” Come on, I’m in a hurry here.

“You haven’t told me what you need me to do.” I haven’t? Oh, ok. 

“Right. I need you to take Donna home early so she can change. I’m taking her to Teatro Goldoni tonight.”

“You’re taking her to Teatro Goldoni? Have you won the lottery?”

“No, but tomorrow I’m telling her I love her and I think it would be nice if we’ve gone out… you know… on a date before that happens.”

Now she’s smiling at me. She’s trying to be tough, but I’m so cute, I don’t think she can help herself. “Really? What else are you doing?”

I squint at her and put my hands on my hips. “You’re on a need to know basis.”

“I need to know.” CJ is whining! This is a momentous occasion. 

I shake my head. “No you don’t.”

“But I want to know.” 

I can’t help chuckling. This is fun. “That’s not the same.”

“I could call Sam.” Blackmail, threats, now there’s the CJ I know.

“He doesn’t know. This is all me.” Like I can trust Sam with surprises any more.

“You thought of Teatro Goldoni on your own?” she asks skeptically. How could she doubt me?

“Yes! Well… no.”

“Leo?”

“The man knows his food, CJ. Plus, he won’t blab like Sam.”

“Please tell me what else you’re doing!” She’s begging; I have finally beaten the illustrious CJ Cregg. This is a day for celebration!

“Why should I?”

“I could be helpful. I could let you know if you’re going in the wrong direction.” She has a point.

“No Ma- whatever shoes.”

“Too late, I bought them last night. I’ll cut out the accessories.”

“And keep your outfit to $200.00.”

“$250.00”

“Deal. When I pick her up tonight, I’m bringing flowers. And not just plain old roses, I ordered lilies.”

“Good choice. I love lilies.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind,” I say sarcastically. “I’ll be arriving in a limo, and I’m wearing a tux, which Donna finds sexy.”

“Well, that’s nauseating, but continue.” Nauseating? I… is it possible CJ doesn’t think I’m sexy? I find that hard to believe. 

“I thought I’d get her a present, I could use your help with that too.”

“I have no doubt. What kind of present?”

“I don’t know. Perfume, jewelry, art. What do you think?”

 

“Art?” She shakes her head. “How about some earrings. Something elegant, but not gaudy.”

“No, not earrings. Something else.”

“Why not earrings?”

“I don’t want to encourage her to wear earrings.” I don’t like the taste of metal in my mouth.

“Why?” She can’t fathom this. See, women don’t have to go through the things men do. Earrings look beautiful, yes, but they get in the way… of things.

“They get in the way, if you must know. I like to be able to have complete access to her ears whenever I please,” I say, showing no shame at how chauvinistic that sounded.

CJ gets an absolutely horrified look on her face. “Ok, I’m going to be sick now. Does she know you feel this way?”

 

I nod. “Yes, that’s why she wears earrings to work; to keep me in line.”

“Because, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to control yourself?”

I nod again. “She also isn’t wearing v-neck shirts, because I’m obsessed with her neck, it’s…”

“Stop right there.” She holds up a hand at me. “No details. So a necklace…”

“Would get in the way too. How about a bracelet? I think I’d be ok with her wrist being covered. I’m more a fan of her palm.”

“I just said no details Josh. But, a bracelet would be nice.”

“Can we get it by tonight?”

“Anaju’s is a block from here. Let’s go now.” She stands up and grabs her purse. “You can buy me lunch on the way back.” 

“Are you going to help, or for the free food?”

“I’m going to help, but only so she doesn’t have to pretend to like something hideous. I’m doing this for the Sisterhood, not you. Got it?”

“Understood.”

**********

“That one.” Toby points to the ugliest bracelet I've seen in my life. It’s one of those charm bracelets, which are ok I guess, but it’s huge and looks like it weighs about ten pounds. I don’t think his taste is that bad, I’m pretty sure he’s just picking on Josh.

“Toby, you’re not being helpful.” I hear Josh say to him while I wait for the very cute, very gay man to bring out some more bracelets.

“I didn’t come here to be helpful,” he says in that ‘I’m making fun of you and I’m not going to diminish it by laughing at you’ voice of his.

“Why did you let him come, CJ?” Granted, when Toby asked where we were going, I could have and probably should have lied, but it’s so much more fun when I can help Donna and humiliate Josh at the same time. It’s like icing on the cake. 

“Because he wanted to make fun of you.” Anyway, he deserves it, I lost out on my accessories.

“I thought we were on the same side now.”

I give him a stern look. “No you didn’t.”

“You’re right, I didn’t.”

“Hey Josh,” says Toby, laughing. “Maybe you should look for an engagement ring while you’re here.”

“Oh, he’s already been looking,” I point out.

“CJ!!!” Oops, guess I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Imagine my remorse.

“No shit, really?” Now this is good. Toby is completely shocked and Josh is completely humiliated. Who needs to go to the movies? This is entertainment.

“Tell him, Josh.”

“No CJ, I don’t think I will.” Josh is giving me that ‘get us out of this’ look.

I look at him for a long minute; betray his trust-don’t betray his trust, what to do. “I guess you’re right Josh. You have the right to your own privacy. So I’m not going to tell him that you’re proposing to Donna on November 13th, or that you’ve already booked the wedding for February 13th and the honeymoon in Maui. I won’t even tell him that tonight’s date is because you’re telling her you love her tomorrow. I’m not going to tell him that stuff Josh, because I wouldn’t want to break the trust we’ve built.” I look over at Toby who is stunned and not hiding it well.

“How kind of you,” he says sarcastically.

“I am, however, going to tell him why we’re getting a bracelet instead of the earrings I suggested.”

“Oh, I already know that,” Toby states.

“You do?” He thinks he knows, but no one knows the mind of Joshua Lyman. Well, except for Donna.

“Earrings get in the way. They taste like crap,” he says and points to a ring for the cute gay guy to get out of the showcase.

“Excuse me?” What is this, a man thing?

“It’s hard to suck on a girl’s ear when she’s wearing earrings. Men don’t buy those for women until the magic is over.”

“Really?” The man behind the counter looks at me and nods.

“Of course, now let’s get this woman a bracelet and an engagement ring.”

**********

Something is up. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s something. Here are my clues:  
1\. CJ, Toby and Josh went to lunch together. When they got back and saw me, CJ and Toby split quickly. Also, I heard Toby thank Josh for lunch. Josh bought?  
2\. CJ asked me if I could run an errand with her today, which would mean I’d have to leave the office at five, and Josh said it was ok.   
3\. Josh said he’d come over to my place around 6:30, when he leaves work. He’s leaving work, on a Thursday, at or before 6:30?   
4\. We were going to stay at his place for the rest of the week so we could have ‘not-getting-out-of-bed Sunday’ with the new comforter, sheets, and groceries we’re buying on Saturday. So, why are we going to my apartment?  
5\. Josh took my cane and hid it, saying I need to use my walker for the rest of the day. He must want me to save my strength.   
6\. Louise has come and gone into his office at least three times this afternoon. And each time, she’s shut the door.  
7\. There’s a blow dryer on Josh’s desk.

Yes, something is definitely going on, and CJ knows about it.

**********  
I hear her rolling down the hall before she gets here and I jump up from my desk, grab some random notebook and head for the door. “Hey CJ,” she casually says. Shit, she knows.

“Hey, I’m…” I point at the hall like I’m in some hurry to get somewhere.

“Oh, go ahead. I just wanted to tell you that I’m not going to be able to go with you on your errand today. Matt Skinner called and needs some more figures for the thing, so I’m going to have to stay late. I’ll just leave with Josh.” 

Oh, she’s good. “But… I really need your help, Donna. I can’t do it alone.”

She smiles innocently at me. Josh is right, she is Judas. “I’m sorry. I can go tomorrow night, if that’ll help.”

“No, it has to be tonight. I’ll tell you what. I’ll call Matt Skinner and get you an extra day.” Two can play at this game. 

She raises her eyebrows at me. She’s impressed, but not thrown. “Actually CJ, I’d rather you didn’t. It’s just that this is my first legislation on my own. I don’t want to make excuses. I want to impress them, especially now that I’m dating Josh. I don’t want it to look like he’s only giving me the chance because we’re dating.”

Damn her. I taught her this technique and now she’s using it against me. It’s like the weapons we sold to Kumar. I look around and then talk quietly. “Donna, I didn’t want to say this here, but… it’s a doctor’s appointment, and I really don’t want…. No, that’s not true. I can’t use health, it’s just not right.”

“CJ,” she yells at me. I deserve it. “I can’t believe you even considered going there. You know better than that.”

I hang my head in shame. “I’m sorry, I panicked. I’ve never been up against an opponent as worthy as you.”

She nods. “It’s ok, you’re forgiven.”

“Thanks, now I have to go.” I point to the hall again and start to take off. She’s injured; she can’t catch me.

“Not so fast, CJ.” Damn.

“Donna,” I’m whining. This is the second time I’ve done this today. Their relationship is killing me.

“Spill.”

“I can’t Donna. It’s a surprise and if I spill, I’ll ruin it for you.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes, and he’s gone to a lot of trouble to make you happy. Just let him do it, Donna. I ask not for him, but for you.”

“A surprise that called for the help of you, Louise and Toby? Must be pretty good.”

“Leo too.”

“Leo too? I’m impressed.”

“I’ve never been one to give credit to Josh, even when it is due, but he’s done well this time.” He really has. Flowers, a limo, a tux, dinner at one of the most expensive restaurants in town, and a gorgeous white gold tennis bracelet; plus he’s good in bed? Is it possible that Josh Lyman is the perfect man and I missed it?

“Ok, but give me something.”

It is the Sisterhood, how can I say no. “Ok, one thing, what do you want to know?”

“What’s the blow dryer for?”


	20. What We Do

Josh knocks on my door at 6:28pm. I’m still trying to get used to this being on time thing he’s been doing lately, but I’m almost ready. Thanks to CJ’s help, my hair is done into an up-do and I’m wearing a long black dress with spaghetti straps and not much back that is clingy in all the right places but does hide “the leg” rather well. There’s a long slit in it, but luckily, it’s on the other leg.

I open the door and my mouth visibly drops open at the sight of Josh in a tux holding a few dozen lilies in one hand and twirling his bow tie in the other. If it weren’t for the amount of time I spent on my make-up, I’d be drooling. Josh is extremely sexy in a tux, and although I’d never admit it, I love it when he saves the bowtie for me. I’ve always loved being that close to him, smelling the combination of soap and cologne on him. It’s intoxicating. 

“Hey sexy,” I say to him. Josh and I aren’t nickname types, but right here, right now, the term really, really, really fits. Really. Do we have to go out; can’t I just jump him right here?

**********

Do we have to go out; can’t I just jump her right here? She’s wearing her 2002 State Dinner dress-4. I have most of her outfits labeled and categorized by date, event, or the gomer she wore it for. All outfits also have a number, which correlates to any dream or fantasy I may or may not have had about her in… or out of said outfit. This number is on a 1-5 scale and goes something like this:   
1 – Mother-of-my-children type fantasy   
2 – Romance, kissing, promise of things to come fantasy  
3 – Romance followed by sex in a bed fantasy  
4 – Somewhat romantic, followed by somewhat naughty sex, place optional, fantasy  
5 – Shove her against the nearest door/wall and go at it like rabbits fantasy

Never before have I actually been able to touch her in one of these outfits. Sure, I’ve always been pretty liberal with the hand that “guides her around,” and yes, there have been the occasional dances and even a few hugs, but right now, if I could make my feet move, I could walk right up to her and kiss her while putting one hand on that extremely exposed back and running the other over her left leg, which is sticking out of that very long slit. I only gave this dress a 4?

I’m trying to smirk, because I can tell by the look on her face that she thinks I look hot, but I can’t get over the dress and the being able to touch her thing. Move feet, move!! Instead of being all suave and sweeping her off her feet, I awkwardly hold out the flowers I brought her. She bites her lower lip and looks at me shyly, which, combined with that dress, is just about the most adorable, most beautiful, sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and is more than enough to propel my feet in to action. 

She’s only about two feet from me, but it seems to take a lifetime to get to where she’s standing, and don’t think the irony of that statement is lost on me. When I get to her I kiss her in a way I haven’t before. It’s hungry and almost desperate, and I can barely acknowledge that she’s kissing me back the same way. My hands are all over her, which means the flowers and my bowtie are, I don’t know, in a heap on the floor, I guess.

I can feel her hands move from my chest to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to her. Our tongues are almost fighting each other to be in the other person’s mouth, and I don’t exactly remember doing it, but I guess I picked her up, because suddenly I have her up against the wall in her foyer and I know she couldn’t have walked there herself. Apparently, I’ve bumped the dress up to number 5 status.

The next few minutes are a blur; I remember finding the zipper of her dress; I remember pulling one of the straps down off her shoulder with my teeth; I remember sucking on her earlobe and the taste of the metal from her earring; I remember desperately needing to put my hands in her hair and both of us frantically pulling out bobby-pins; I remember her lips on my chest but not her unbuttoning my shirt; I remember her hand grasping me through my boxers but not her unzipping my pants; I remember my right hand traveling up her left leg under her dress and inside of her underwear; I remember her screaming like I’ve never heard her scream before, and I distinctly remember feeling like a complete and utter schmuck as I stepped back and watched her biting her lip in pain as a few tears fell onto her cheek. 

“Oh God,” I say as I pick her up and carry her to the couch in the living room. She looks absolutely awful. Her face is red where I’ve smeared her lipstick all over the place, her hair is half up, half down, her dress is barely on, her mascara is smudged on her cheeks from her tears, and she’s clearly in pain. I lay her down on the couch and I don’t even know what to say or do and I don’t want to touch her for fear that I’ll just hurt her even more. I keep mumbling that I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to do and I feel helpless. Finally, I tell her I’m going to call the doctor and that then we’re going to the hospital.

“No,” she says, grabbing my hand. “Don’t call the doctor.”

“Donna, you’re crying.”

“That’s because it hurts,” she says, taking a deep breath.

“I know it does, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that, I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” 

And Donna, being the most amazing woman in the world, reaches out and touches my face, to bring me comfort. What did I do to deserve this woman?

**********

Josh is freaking out. Yes, my leg hurts like a bitch, but he’s acting like he ripped it right off my body; he’s apologized about thirty times in the minute and a half I’ve been on the couch. He’s kneeling on the floor next to me, his head buried in my stomach. I know how much Josh hates to see me in pain; when he was in Germany, every flinch or moan from me had him running to the nurse’s station, demanding more morphine. I half expected them to either kick him out of the building or dope him up with the stuff to shut him up. “Josh, it’s ok, it just hurts.”

“It’s not ok. I can’t believe I did that.” He looks up at me and he’s fighting tears.

“You? Josh, it was both of us.”

“I should’ve known; I did know, dammit!” He stands and starts pacing. “We’ve discussed this; you can’t… not yet. I never should’ve…”

“Josh, look at yourself; look at your clothes. You didn’t do that to yourself. It was both of us.” He looks at me and then down at himself. His suspenders are hanging off his waist, his shirt is unbuttoned and untucked, his tux jacket is gone, lying on the floor in the foyer, no doubt. Even his pants are unbuttoned. I can’t help giggling a little, looking at him. 

“Jeez, Donna. In a hurry?” he says, raising his eyebrows at me and smiling just a little. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I was. So stop blaming yourself. It was us, not you.”

He comes back to the couch, kneels down beside me and puts his hands on my cheek. “I don’t ever want to hurt you,” he whispers.

I smile up at him. “You didn’t hurt me. A bomb did.”

“I mean it, Donna. I love you; I don’t ever want to hurt you. I don’t ever want to see you hurt. I just… I can’t take it when you’re in pain. It kills me.”

Suddenly I’m crying for a completely different reason, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face, pain or no pain. “You’re not supposed to tell me that until tomorrow.”

He hangs his head. “I know. I messed up again. I’ve blown the whole night.”

“Josh,” I saying, picking up his chin so he’s looking at me. “Just for the record, it’s never a mistake to tell me you love me. Not if you mean it.”

He looks directly in my eyes. “I mean it. I love you so much; it’s so strong that sometimes it scares me, because I don’t know how I would ever survive without you.”

“You’re never going to have to find out.”

“But you almost died,” he whispers, and a tear finally slips from his eyes. “And I would have been nothing more than a shell. I know you don’t understand why I can’t stand to see you like this, but…

I roll onto my side and put my hand on his chest. “I completely understand, Josh.”

He closes his eyes and puts his hand over mine on his chest and we stay like that for a minute, both of us letting the tears freely fall. Then he whispers, “I do love you. I’ll try my absolute hardest to show you and to tell you that everyday for the rest of my life, but you’ll never know how much.”

And I wish I had something amazing to say right now, but I don’t. I’m so completely blown away by him that words fail me, so instead, I pull him down to me and hug him, and I just hold on to him as hard as I can, because I can never let him go now; it would be impossible. 

**********

Donna and I hold on to each other for several minutes, neither of us saying anything. Finally, I pull back and take her face in my hands and kiss her. Only then does she whisper that she loves me too, and I take what feels like the fist breath of my life. This amazing creature loves me, how can that be?

She sits up on the couch and I prop her leg up on the coffee table and sit beside her, holding her as if my life depended on it, because… well, it does. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital? Just to have it looked at?”

She smiles at me. “No, it feels better now, but I don’t think I should put any pressure on it. I’m sorry we can’t go out.”

“No. You don’t get to be sorry. You’re hurt and that’s not your fault,” I say, taking her hand in mine.

“What were we going to do?”

“Not much really.” The truth is, it was going to be amazing, but I try to downplay it, so she doesn’t feel bad. “Dinner at Teatro Goldoni and a ride around the bay in a limo. Nothing we can’t do another time.”

Her mouth drops open. “Teatro Goldoni? Are you serious?” 

I laugh at her. “Yes, I can be romantic, Donna.”

“But… I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“I know. We’ll go. We’ll go when you’re feeling better.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.” I lean down and kiss her. “Now, I’m going to go tell the limo driver he can go. You wait here, and don’t try to get up.”

“Ok.”

I walk into the foyer, re-dressing on the way, and I pick up the flowers and my tux jacket. I grab my cell phone out of the pocket and head out the door.

**********

Josh comes back up stairs after dismissing the limo, and I’m still feeling bad that we can’t go out because of my stupid leg. Not to mention the other thing we can’t do because of my leg. You know… that thing we started to do when he got here tonight? Yes, that.

“I called for pizza, but they’re busy. It’s going to be an hour.”

“That’s fine, pizza’s good.” I say, trying, but failing, to sound enthusiastic.

“I got thin crust,” he says, trying to cheer me up.

“Cheese only?” I ask with a small pout. Level one, nothing major.

“Of course. I just told you I love you, I’d only get the best pizza money can buy.” This makes me smile. “Now, how about we clean you up and get you in some pajamas? I’m not gonna lie to you; you’ve looked better.”

He pulls me off the couch and carries me into the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and am a little scared at what I see. I look like a Halloween costume gone bad. But now, I can’t help grinning. “What?” he asks.

“I look like hell,” I say with a cheerful voice. 

“And you’re happy about that? Not that I’m saying you look like hell. I’m not saying that. All I said was that you’ve looked better.”

“I look like hell, and this is how I looked when you told me you loved me. That’s why I’m smiling.”

He looks at me and shrugs. “I love you, it doesn’t matter how you look.” This makes me smile even more and he smiles back. “I did good?”

I nod. “You did very good.”

“So…”

“Yes?”

“I was just wondering… since I did good…”

“Yes?”

“Can I help you shower?” 

That’s my man, ladies. He can be the most romantic person in the world, but my naked body is always right there on the back of his mind. “Yes, I think so.”

**********

Did she just say what I think she just said? “Really?” I start bouncing around the room. I’m a little hyper.

“But not tonight.” What? 

I stop bouncing and start frowning. “I’m in love with Judas.”

“Calm down, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to put pressure on my leg right now. But.. you can help me shower on Sunday, how about that?” 

Hey, that’s not a bad idea. I get a mischievous grin on my face. “We’re having not-getting-out-of-bed Sunday. I could take my time.”

“I would think so.”

“And can I dry your hair too?” Leave me alone, we’ve already discussed my obsession with her hair.

“Well, you do need to try out your new gift from the President.” I hang my head. Is nothing sacred? Does CJ have to tell her everything? Everything?

**********

I wash my face and comb out my hair, and Josh brings me pajamas to put on. Then, he carries me back to the bedroom, which isn’t far considering my entire apartment is only about 600sq. ft. But still, for a man in his early forties, he’s been doing a lot of carrying tonight.

Once I’m in bed, he hangs up my dress and puts the plastic over it, just as I instruct. I have the greatest boyfriend in the world. Then, he wiggles his eyes brows at me and puts in ‘Independence Day,’ which makes me laugh. Tonight really could have sucked; but instead, I’m comfortable, I’m laughing, and I’m lying in the arms of the man I love waiting for thin crust cheese pizza to arrive. I don’t see how it could get any better than this.

When the doorbell rings 45 minutes later, Josh tells me to stay put and goes to get the pizza. I must say, I do enjoy all the attention and coddling that I get due to the injury. Although, I’d like the non-injury activities better, if you know what I mean. 

Josh is gone for about five minutes, and I start wondering if the pizza was made wrong. Then he comes back in to the bedroom empty handed and I immediately start pouting, level two. If it’s wrong, we’re re-ordering it. We’re getting at least one thing right tonight. “Did they make it wrong?”

“No it’s right. But I set it out on the table. I thought we could at least fake being out on a date.” I’m really quite comfortable, but I don’t say that. If he wants to eat at the table, that’s fine. Although it does mean that once again, we have to stop the movie. The next time he’s out of town for business, I’m watching it alone. Don’t tell him.

He carries me into the kitchen, and I can’t believe what I see. It’s beautiful. The lights are off and the table is covered in a white tablecloth. The lilies are in a vase in the center of the table, and there are lit candles on both sides of the vase. There are three plates on one side of the table, covered with sterling silver, and there more covered plates on the cabinet to the side. There’s a bottle of wine chilling in ice next to the table. I stare at it, and he whispers to me, “I figured if we couldn’t go to Teatro Goldoni, they could come to us.”

I turn to face him and he wipes a tear from my eye. “I love you,” I whisper back and kiss him on the cheek. He carefully sits me in one of the chairs and props my leg up on another one. Then he pours me a glass of wine and moves one of the covered plates from the side of the table to the place in front of me. He takes the cover off and I’m expecting to see a salad or something, but instead, I see a jewelry box. 

I gasp and he moves across from me and sits down. I haven’t touched the box; I’m just staring at it and biting my lower lip, which I tend to do when I’m nervous. It’s not a ring box, but it’s from Anaju’s, so whatever it is, it’s nice. “Go ahead,” he says.

I look up at him; he’s got the most amazing smile on his face, and I can’t help smiling back. I look at him for a minute and then back at the box. Carefully, I open it and I know my jaw must drop open; I’m surprised it didn’t hit the table. Inside is the most beautiful tennis bracelet. It’s…. unbelievable. “Josh,” I can’t really speak. I just look up at him and I’m crying again. I’m like a faucet tonight.

He comes over to my side of the table again and takes the bracelet out of the box. Then, he kisses my wrist and carefully puts the bracelet on me. When it’s on, he kisses my palm and then my forehead, and finally my lips. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

“You’re beautiful. This can’t compare,” he whispers back and then kisses me again. When we part, a good two or three minutes later, he moves that plate and puts another one in front of me. This time, it’s a delicious looking salad, with blueberries and goat cheese and walnuts. He puts the third plate in front of his spot and kisses me one more time on the cheek before setting down to eat.

“Mmm,” he says. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

I look at him across the small table and smile. “It’s absolutely perfect,” I say. And it is. We’re sitting here in pajamas in my tiny kitchen eating food from one of the most expensive and romantic restaurants in the city, and it’s absolutely perfect. And it’s not because of the candles or the bracelet or the food, it’s because it’s Josh and me, and we’re together and we’re happy and we’re in love. It’s perfect because it’s us, talking and laughing and loving each other, and that’s what we do.


	21. The Getaway

“I’m officially running at semi-full capacity.” I happily announce as I walk in and hop down on CJ’s couch.

“What?” She’s reading something and pretty much ignoring me.

“Sex…the go ahead. I got it. And tonight, I’m going to get it. Lot’s of it.”

That got her attention and her face scrunches up like she’s just witnessed a bunny getting run over by a car. “We’ve discussed the level of detail my stomach can handle.”

“Right. Sorry, I can’t help myself. I nearly walked into his office and attacked him when I got back, but he’s in the oval office meeting with Leo and the President. It’s a sick, sick thing, but I was tempted to…”

“Stop right there,” she says, holding her hand up.

“That’s probably for the best.”

“So, tonight.”

“Well, maybe this afternoon, if I can get him out to the car for a little bit.”

“Donna!”

“I’m sorry, CJ, but you know our theory about his abilities in this area. And he’s proven so good at similar activities.” Now she’s banging her head on her desk. I admit this is pretty much just for fun now.

“Wait a minute!” she yells, looking up at me.

“What?”

“Isn’t tomorrow your anniversary or something?”

“Yeah, two months.”

“Oh Donna, you have to wait.”

“What?” Wait? Is she insane? 

“Wait for the anniversary. It’ll be romantic.”

“No! No, no, no. I can’t wait.”

“It’s one day!”

“CJ!”

“Donna!”

I look at her, ready to argue some more, but then I know she’s right. “I have to wait?” I ask quietly.

“Well, you don’t have to, but…”

“Right,” I say, pouting. 24 more hours with no sex, I feel like a nun. Well, except that oral and digital activities are taking place on a regular basis. You didn’t want to know that, did you?

“Tell you what. Tomorrow, during lunch, we’ll go to Victoria’s Secret and pick out something sexy for you to wear. Won’t that be fun?” Poor CJ, trying to cheer me up.

“Oh! I know what I want. I saw it in the last catalog. It’s a silk charmeuse chemise and matching wrap. Ivory. It’s gorgeous; sexy but tasteful. I’ll need some underwear that match too.”

“Alright, that’s the spirit! You’re gonna knock him dead.”

“Well, hopefully not until after…”

“Donna!!” Just for fun, I tell you. Just for fun.

**********

“Did you pack her bag?” I ask, sneaking into CJ’s office like I’m on a mission for the CIA.

“Yes, I put it in your trunk,” she says tossing my car keys to me.

“Everything else set?” I ask Toby as I pace the office and they both laugh at me. 

“The map is in the front seat, they’re expecting you around eight, lilies are in the room, and they’re going to have some brie and girly romantic food like that set out and a fire going in the fire place. I didn’t think they should let you start it yourself. We all know how that goes.” 

I glad are him. “The team Toby, the team.” The three of us have become a team. Well, except that CJ isn’t really on our team, and for that matter, neither is Toby. Still, they help me with things like this because they’re sure if I did it alone I’d mess-up, and they think Donna deserves better. They’re also helping me look for the engagement ring. We have it narrowed down to six.

“Calm down, Romeo,” CJ says, ignoring the whole team comment. 

“I’m fine.” I’m not fine. I’m so excited! I can’t stop bouncing around the office. I’ve been doing it all day. This will be our first getaway as a couple, and I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. 

A few weeks ago, we scheduled the vote for the Arts In Education bill, and I managed to get that vote for today, October 13, which is….wait for it…mine and Donna’s second month anniversary. I’m a genius! Once I scheduled the vote, which I knew was easily going to pass, I went to the team to plan something romantic. I was thinking dinner, maybe finally going to Teatro Goldoni, something sweet like that. An hour later, CJ and Toby came to me with an altogether different, much more expensive, and I must say, better plan. They found The Sandcastle Bed and Breakfast directly on the ocean on Long Beach Island in New Jersey. Not only that, they also convinced Leo to let Donna and me take Thursday, Friday, and the weekend off. Toby not so graciously agreed to field all things related to my office for the rest of the week, so barring a national emergency, which let’s face it, is still a definite possibility, we shouldn’t be bothered for the next four days. CJ even went to the brownstone this morning and packed a bag for Donna. See, we’re a team; kind of.

**********

I don’t know where we’re going. I have no idea. The bill passed, Leo told me to get the hell out of the west wing and not come back until Monday, and Josh all but threw me in the car. Now we’re driving and I have no idea where we’re going, but it’s not towards home where I was planning on having sex.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise!” He’s very chipper. Imagine how he’d be if he knew he could be getting lucky right now.

“But, I had a surprise of my own,” I pout. 

“The fridge!” Josh yells suddenly. 

Where the hell did that come from? I’m thinking about sex and out of nowhere he yells the word ‘fridge?’ “What about the fridge?” 

“I forgot to clean out the fridge. When you leave town, you get rid of anything that might make a fridge smell. It’s what you do. It’s… an unwritten rule. There’s milk in there; I saw it yesterday. Oh, it’s gonna smell…” Josh has an inexplicable fear of refrigerator smell. You may remember this from early in our relationship. I’ve spoken with his mother about it, but she’s been unable to shed any light on the subject. All we can guess is that there was some sort of issue in college that he’s blocked out. Wait a minute; did he say ‘when you leave town’? 

“We’re going out of town?” That’s going to stall the sex, isn’t it?

“Yes, for four days. The whole weekend Donna, refrigerators can sense these things. We’ll come back Sunday to horrific smells permeating the air and settling into the furniture. Bugs, ants, and rodents will be there, feeding off those smells. We’ll come home to a house full of mice and…. porcupines.” He’s waiving his arms around like a mad man. I still sometimes wonder why we let him run the country. 

“Porcupines?”

“Yes. And snakes.”

“Because of the fridge smell?”

“Yes,” he says panicked as he gets out his cell phone and begins dialing.

“Of course.”

“I need a favor,” he says to whomever he’s talking to. There’s a pause and he continues. “I know, but I need another one… Do you still have the spare key to the brownstone?…Good, I need you to go there and clean out the fridge… Please… I’m begging you… You don’t understand, we could have snakes by Sunday… I’ll pay you… Please… I’m begging here, this should be giving you some amount of joy… You know he won’t do it; you’re all I have… This is extremely important, you have no idea…what do you want?… No, no more shoes… a what?…hold on… Donna?”

“Yeah?” What the hell is going on and when am I going to have sex?

“What’s the approximate cost of a prada purse?”

Oh, now I see. He’s obviously on the phone with CJ, who is trying to get a prada purse for throwing away a carton of milk and some cottage cheese that won’t be bad by Sunday. Good move CJ. “Anywhere from $300 on up. I’ve seen them for over a thousand.” His mouth drops open and he looks at me like I just told him Amy was in the backseat. It takes him a minute to focus on CJ again.

“Absolutely not… you’re nuts…you want a thousand dollar purse to clean out a refrigerator?…it’ll take twenty minutes…lunch, I’ll buy you lunch next week…no…think of the team CJ, the team…but she lives there too… you don’t want her to come home to a house full of mice and porcupines, do you?…it could too happen…how much is that?…CJ, I’m going to go broke… fine…what?… what do you mean, you can’t do it alone?…all you have to do is sit there…did you two plan this?” Now he’s looking at me like I’m involved in some scheme. All I want to do is have sex! “Fine. Fine. Just clean out the fridge, everything gone. The BBQ sauce and Pepto-Bismol can stay, anything frozen can stay. Everything else goes. Everything, CJ, everything. Yeah, yeah, you’re a thief; you know that?”

Great, now I’m going to have to completely re-stock the fridge. “What’s going on?” I ask when he hangs up.

“Next weekend you and CJ are going to some Pif spa for special number 8, whatever that means.”

“The Piaf Spa?” Holy crap, good negotiating CJ! 

“Yeah.”

“Special number 8?”

“That’s what she said, what’s special number 8?”

“A full body massage, a facial, a pedicure and a mani…”

“A full body massage?” I love the squeak. It’s something I never grow tired of.

“Yep!” This is almost better than sex. 

“I just agreed to pay for my girlfriend to get a full body massage from somebody else?”

“It appears so.” No, I’m still going to need sex.

He starts mumbling, and I can’t make it all out, but I do hear, “Great, some gomer trying to feel up my girlfriend and I’m paying for it.”

“It might be a woman,” I remind him. Now his eyebrows raise and he looks over and starts looking me up and down. Yuck, he’s having a mental image of me in some sort of twisted girl on girl porno, I just know it. Men are so disgusting. “Joshua!”

**********

Here’s the thing. I crave Donna. It’s kind of sick, I know, but I do. So, driving to New Jersey while sitting next to her in the car isn’t as easy as driving to New Jersey would be if she were, I don’t know, in the trunk. I guess I should have seen this coming. At least three times a week, we don’t make it all the way home from work without stopping for a make-out session somewhere along the way, and that’s a twenty-minute drive. I’ll be calmly watching the road when out of the corner of my eye I see her chewing on her thumb and staring at me, at which point I have no choice but to pull over and kiss her for, I don’t know, a half hour or so. Anyway, what I’m saying is the four-hour drive to New Jersey takes six hours.

When we finally get to The Sandcastle and up to our room, the Sunset Vista Suite, indeed everything is perfect. There’s a fire in the fireplace, and Brie and crackers and fruit out on a tray along with a bottle of wine that the President recommended and probably cost me a small fortune. And there are two-dozen lilies in a vase by the bed, which Donna noticed immediately. Donna, by the way, looks like she’s going to either cry or jump me right here in front of Nancy, the innkeeper, I’m not sure which. But I’m pretty sure I’m getting some tonight. Well, not getting some as in getting some getting some, Donna’s still not at semi-full capacity, but there are…things we can do. And we do them… very well and very often. And that’s the getting some I’m talking about.

**********

Oh yeah, Josh is getting some tonight. And I mean getting some getting some. Of course, he doesn’t know it, but when I walk out into that room wearing this, I think he’s going to have a pretty good idea. It occurs to me that CJ must’ve known about this trip when we discussed sex yesterday, and she convinced me to wait until tonight because she knew it was going to be perfect. Then she went the extra mile by helping me pick out lingerie and hide it in a non-Victoria Secret’s bag and still somehow managed to keep the trip a secret. And at the end of the day, she managed to get herself, and me, a special number 8 from Piaf’s, which cost $200 each. It’s times like this that I realize I still have a lot to learn from CJ Cregg.

I take one last look in the mirror. I was going to put my hair up, but why bother? Taking it down would be the very first thing he’d do, his obsession with my hair hasn’t diminished in the slightest. As for the rest of me, I look pretty good, if I do say so myself. Yes, I have three scars on my right leg, and yes, I’m going to have to try to strike a come hither pose using a cane, but I’m guessing that once he sees me in this outfit, he’ll come to me and I won’t have to use the cane after that. As far as the outfit goes, I’m looking pretty damn good. This chemise is clinging to all the right places and none of the wrong ones; it’s a cross between angelic looking and down right hot, and the wrap falls off the shoulders just so. Yep, I’m ready.

I open the bathroom door and find Josh standing by the window looking out over the bay, with his back to me. He’s still wearing his suit, with the exception of the tie that didn’t make it past the first make-out pit stop, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He doesn’t know this, but I find that extremely sexy. He has no idea what he can do to me by just…being. I should probably make some noise or something to alert him of my presence, but instead I just stand here watching him. After a minute, I look to his reflection in the glass, and I’m surprised to find him looking directly at me.

**********

Oh my God. I can’t breath. And I can’t move. I have never in my life seen anything as beautiful as her. She just came out of the bathroom; I heard the door and caught her reflection in the glass before I had a chance to turn around. Now I’m riveted to this spot and I can’t seem to take a breath. She’s looking at my back and has a smile on her face, but she doesn’t know that I can see her, so I just watch her. I’m utterly speechless.

Finally, she catches my reflection and we just stare at each other. She starts biting at her lower lip, and I know my mouth is hanging open, but I simply have no control right now. After several seconds, she leans against the doorframe and licks her lips and I’m surprised that I don’t fall over into a heap right here by the window.

It takes a good thirty, forty seconds to turn around and face her, and I try to speak twice, but nothing comes out when I open my mouth. Her smile gets bigger, which is a less sexy look, but looks all the sexier to me if that makes any sense. I’m slowly walking towards her, but I don’t want to get too close for fear that she’ll disappear, and I don’t want to go even another second before touching her, and basically, I’m losing my mind, which isn’t surprising considering the fact that there’s no blood there right now.

When I finally reach her, I don’t know where to start. My right hand finds its way to her left shoulder, where her robe is hanging off of it and on to her arm. I start rubbing small circles on her there with my thumb as I continue gawking at her like an imprisoned man looking at a woman for the first time in fifteen years. She brings her left hand up and places it gently on my forearm, running her nails over it lightly. I instantly become even harder than I was, which I didn’t know was possible at this point.

It’s her touch that finally sends me into action, and I bring my left hand to her hair, which is really my favorite place in the world to have it. I lean down and brush my lips over hers, but then move directly to her neck and begin placing long open mouth kisses at the curve where neck becomes shoulder. Her hand that was on my arm moves to my hair and she starts pulling me closer to her while at the same time, lightly scratching my scalp with her nails. This makes me groan.

Eventually, I drop to my knees, which is really going to hurt tomorrow, but I have to be closer to her body. I’m torn as to whether I want this nightgown on or off of her, and I finally settle on kissing her stomach through the thing while running my hands over it on her back and sides. I can feel the heat from her body through the material and my light caresses become more like a deep body massage as the need to touch her becomes greater.

I look up at her; her head is leaned back against the doorframe and her eyes are closed, her mouth slightly open, and she’s breathing heavy. One of her hands is still in my hair, while the other one is up over her head holding onto the frame of the door. While still watching her, I move my hands under the nightgown, to her stomach and she gasps, her mouth opening a little more as her chest starts heaving and her face becomes even more flushed. I go back to kissing her stomach, her pelvis bone, her belly button, still through the silky material, and I feel her other hand come to rest in my hair as well.

**********

It’s not easy to pull Josh up from his knees, he’s obviously content to just stay right there all night, but I need his mouth on mine. So, I use the two hands in his hair to tilt his head up to my face and I lean down and kiss him. The kiss is long and passionate and our tongues slide against each other almost agonizingly slowly. As we kiss, I move my hands to his cheeks and guide him back to his feet and that’s when I feel him push the wrap off of me, so I drop my hands from his face so it can fall to the floor. His fingers are light on my arms, sending shivers throughout my entire body, and when the wrap is gone, I rake my hands back up his arms, across his chest and begin slowly unbuttoning his shirt. His hands are back in my hair, but when I start pushing his shirt off his shoulders, he takes them out and helps me take it off of him. He pulls his lips from mine and while looking him directly in the eyes; I reach for the hem of his t-shirt and push it up his chest, letting my thumbs drag along his torso the entire way. When it’s up around his chest, he takes it from me and pulls it over his head as I immediately begin kissing his chest, moving my hands around to feel the muscles in his back.

While I’m doing this, Josh attaches himself back to my neck and my earlobe, making me glad I went ahead and took off my earrings. He takes the earlobe into his mouth, sucking on it and biting it ever so gently as I do the exact same thing to his nipple, which makes him groan. His fingers are now playing with the spaghetti straps on my nightgown, lifting them, sliding them over, but not pushing them over my shoulders to rid me of it. This makes me smile against his skin.

I eventually move my hands back around to his front and begin undoing his belt buckle. I not so accidentally brush my hand over his erection, which makes him push into me and groan again. When his belt is undone, I unbutton and unzip his pants, and move my hands under them to his butt, and then push them down over his hips and let them pool around his feet. Without moving his lips from my neck, he toes off his shoes and kicks his pants aside. I look down at him in nothing but boxers and black dress socks and giggle.

**********

She’s laughing at me. I can hear it, but her neck tastes too damn good to stop what I’m doing right now and yell at her. I know she’s laughing at my socks, but those are just going to have to wait. She pulls me closer and giggles right into my skin, and then begins licking and biting her way around my chest, which is amazing. When I can’t keep my hands off of her any longer I cup her breast through the material of her nightgown, which I’m just not ready to take off her yet.

I pick her up and carry her to the bed, pulling off my socks and laying down on her left side. I’m still careful never to put any weight on her right leg, and I kiss her again, while snaking my hand up the nightgown again, this time to her breasts, which makes her moan and arch her back up to meet my hand. One of her legs is between my legs and when she bends her knee, she brushes up against my erection, making me groan yet again.

Finally, I sit her up and pull the nightgown over her head, locking eyes with her. She smiles at me; I know it makes her happy that even when she’s naked, it’s her soul I’m looking for. My hands are in her hair and hers are on my upper arms and we’re just looking at each other, breathing heavily and faces flushed, and as happy as we’ve ever been.

**********

He kisses me again, our tongues dancing with each other, and he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, which always makes me sigh and moan and squeak in this way that he loves, and now it’s his turn to laugh at me, and then I feel his hand in the elastic of my underwear and I lift my hips as he pulls them down my legs. When they’re low enough on my legs, I kick them off and he breaks from my lips to my breasts once again. He has his hand on one and his mouth on the other and it’s an overloading of the senses. I don’t know what to pay attention to, and I can’t really focus any more.

When he comes back to my face and kisses me again, I roll so I’m on top of him, which obviously isn’t going to work for sex, because I can’t have all that pressure on my knees. But still, I like the feeling of his body under mine, so we’ll stay this way a little longer. I leave his mouth and move to his neck. “Josh,” I say, taking his earlobe in my mouth and sucking on it. “I had physical therapy yesterday.” 

“Tuesday, I know,” he says, turning his head so I can get to his neck and ear better.

I move from his neck to his Adams apple, and suck on it for a few seconds. He grips the sheets. “She said that I’m…” 

“Yeah?” he asks, obviously trying to focus on my words even as my tongue moves against him.

I move my mouth back up to his ear and let my lips graze it as I whisper, “Semi-full capacity.” I was going to say something sexy, but using code words is what we do.

Just like that, his hands leave the sheets and he’s pulling me into a kiss that neither of us can seem to get enough of. Our teeth are hitting and our tongues are dueling and we’re both making all kinds of noises and then before I even realize it, I’m on my back again.

When he pulls back, he looks at my face and smiles. “Are you sure?” he whispers. I respond my putting my hand on his boxers and tugging. He’s off me and naked in record time, and then he’s on top of me favoring my left side, and I realize that he’s never actually been on top of me before this, and I definitely like it. 

And then he’s inside me, and it’s indescribable. Our eyes lock again, and I’m lost in him. We make love slowly, holding each other, and as I climax, he cradles me and tells me that I’m amazing and that he loves me. He falls soon after me, and we’re both panting and speechless, but we still can’t get enough of each other. We’re trying to catch our breath and kiss at the same time, and his hands are right back where they belong, in my hair, massaging my scalp, and then we’re on our sides, facing each other and we’re both grinning like idiots, and I’m thinking that we’re not going to be seeing much of Long Beach Island, NJ this weekend.


	22. The Proposal

I wake up and Donna’s already in the shower. You know what that means, don’t you? The only thing going through my mind is that Donna is naked and wet right now. I go through this every morning, and every morning, it has the same effect. Fortunately for me, I’m allowed to have this effect now when thinking about or looking at or smelling or touching or being near or even at the mention of Donna’s name. Before, it was sick and perverted, but now it’s normal.

I walk quietly into the bathroom and try to look at her through the glass. It’s that glass that kind of distorts everything so I can’t see her clearly, just the overall shape of her, but I still love to look. Finally, I walk ever so slowly to the shower, open it and step in with her. 

“Joshua, it’s not ‘not-getting-out-of-bed’ Sunday,” she says to me in a low voice, eyes closed, arms up, rinsing shampoo out of her hair. This, of course, means her head is leaned back and her breasts are pushed forward, and… I’m sorry, was I talking about something?

“I know, but I won’t be here on Sunday,” I say in a low voice as I lean down and start sucking on her neck. I run my hands over her arms and up to her hair so I can help with the rinsing. 

She moans a little at what I’m doing to her neck, but somehow still manages to focus. “Josh, we can’t be late today.”

“I’m just trying to help. I’ll hurry,” I reply, dropping my mouth to her chest. 

“You always say that, but you never do.” Now her hands are in my hair, and she’s pulling me even closer to her body.

Let’s just say, we need to start getting up earlier.

**********

Josh and I get to work a whopping three minutes before senior staff starts. As his dutiful assistant, I should be lecturing him, but as Donna Moss, woman who had two orgasms before 8:00am, how can I complain?

Anyway, it was nice to see him smile. He’s been moping around since Wednesday when the President decided that the senior staff was spending the weekend in Manchester to brainstorm legislation for the last year in office. Tomorrow is the infamous November 13th, and our three-month anniversary; I think he had plans. For our one-month anniversary, he bought me a dresser for his…sorry, our… brownstone. I’m not supposed to call it his anymore. For our two-month anniversary, he took me to a bed and breakfast on the ocean and we had sex 13 times in four days. I’m sure something was planned for tomorrow night. 

***********

“You’re in a jovial mood this morning, Josh,” says the President as we finish up with senior staff. 

“Yes, Sir, I am.”

“Care to share with the class?”

I start fidgeting. “You don’t want to know, Sir.” I was having sex with Donna. You don’t mind, do you?

“Must be that you’re looking forward to going to Manchester,” he says with his eyebrows raised. Wednesday, the President decided the senior staff was going to the Manchester house to brainstorm and decide what legislation to focus on during our last 14 months in office. So, we’re leaving this afternoon to, and let me quote him, ‘get out of the city, wear jeans and sweatshirts, breathe in fresh air, and think as our forefathers thought about this great nation and what we can do to ensure its future.’ Yeah, whatever. There’s an 80% chance of snow there tomorrow and a low of 22 degrees. Not to mention the fact that I was going to propose to Donna tomorrow. 

“Josh, last week Donna recommended a fascinating book to me that compares current English politics, US politics and the political aspirations of Queen Mary the first. Can you tell her I’d like to discuss it with her on the plane?” 

“That’s got to be the worst one yet,” Toby says under his breath. 

“Would you like to join us for the discussion, Toby?”

“I’d love to Sir, but Donna’s not going on the trip.”

“Why not?” 

“It’s a senior staff trip, Sir,” he reminds him. 

He nods. “Well, yeah. And Donna.” I love that the President considers Donna pseudo senior staff. “She’s been handling legislation solo, hasn’t she?”

“Arts in Education,” I reply. “She did that pretty much on her own. She worked well with the Committee on Education and the Workforce, so now she’s working on the Early Childhood Special Education Act. They requested her. I think Brett Allen has a crush on her.” I added that last part under my breath. 

“Well, regardless of Congressman Allen’s crush, if she’s handling legislation, I think her input this weekend is needed. Don’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” I say cheerfully. Now we’re talking! And now I have major work to do.

We walk out of the oval office and I stop Toby and CJ. “Wheels up in four hours, we have work to do.”

“You’ve got to get rid of Donna. Send her home to pack and meet us in CJ’s office in ten minutes,” Toby says.

For what?” CJ asks. 

“Donna’s going to Manchester. The proposal’s back on,” Toby says as though he decided it. 

**********

Ten minutes later, we’re sitting in my office trying to come up with the perfect proposal in under four hours. Toby’s taken charge of this…team of ours. He wants us to believe he’s above all this, but he loves every minute of it. You should’ve seen him two weeks ago. The three of us had the ring choice narrowed down to three when one day Toby came barreling into my office announcing he’d found the perfect one. Antique setting, 2 carats, gorgeous. We went to the jewelers that night and knew immediately that was the one. Once Josh got over the price shock, we left it there to get sized.

“CJ, try to find a romantic restaurant there. I don’t know if they exist, but do your best.”

“They’ve got to have one. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m going to need a script,” Josh says.

“Well, hopefully I won’t get stuck discussing the most pointless book ever written on the plane and we can work on a script. Can’t you control her at all? Queen Mary the first and political aspirations?” 

“Control her? Donna?”

“Good point. I’ll go get the ring now, and give it to you tomorrow night so you don’t lose it.” 

“Thanks for your vote of confidence,” says Josh.

“I’m confident of it. You look for something romantic to do there. Something; anything at this point. We can spruce it up if we have to. And you need a suit. CJ, see if we can get a limo.”

“And flowers, we need lots of flowers.”

“Lilies, we know Josh…” and the planning begins.

**********

“Hello?” I answer my cell as I search frantically for my boots. Josh came barreling out of senior staff today telling me that I’m going to Manchester in…crap, three hours and fifteen minutes. I need gloves and a hat and boots and flannel pajamas! I love flannel pajamas.

“Hey. I was thinking we could go to dinner tomorrow night for our anniversary if we can escape the cows. Can you grab me a suit while you’re there?”

“Sure, anything else?”

“That nightgown you took to the ocean last month,” he says in a low, husky voice.

“You know we’re going to have separate rooms for this trip, right?”

“You know it’s a bed and breakfast and the press isn’t going and if you don’t lock your door, I could come…visit, right?”

I can’t help but laugh at him. “We’ll discuss visitation later. Do you need anything else before I get back there?” 

“The fridge,” he says. Oh no. Here we go.

“It’s two days, Josh.”

“Donna, it can sense when we’re not there.”

“It’s a refrigerator. It’s not evil and it cannot sense things.”

“The porcupines, Donna. The porcupines. And the snakes, think of the snakes.” Where does he get this stuff?

“Ok Josh. Because I love you, I’m willing to compromise. I’ll throw out all milk products. Everything else stays.”

“Donna…”

“Come on Josh. Work with me here.”

“All milk, eggs, meat and produce.”

“All the meat is frozen. Milk and eggs.”

“And lettuce. And mayonnaise.”

“Milk, eggs and lettuce. The mayonnaise doesn’t expire for another month.”

He’s very quiet for a minute. “Fine. All milk products, including cottage cheese and yogurt, eggs, and lettuce. Plus, you bring the nightgown and your cane, just in case.” I’m off the cane now, although I still keep it around in case therapy leaves me in a lot of pain or I sleep on it wrong or something. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I ask him, smiling.

He takes a deep breath and sighs. “We won’t really know until we get back on Sunday.”

**********

It’s a beautiful Saturday morning here in New Hampshire. And by beautiful, I mean cloudy, cold and snowing. However, Donna and I are drinking hot chocolate in front of the fireplace at the Bartlet’s home while the men discuss important legislation…i.e. which bowl game Notre Dame will make it to this year.

“I knocked on Josh’s door this morning, he didn’t answer,” I say casually. 

“Really? Maybe he was in the shower,” she says, suddenly fascinated by her cocoa.

“Yeah, I’m sure that was it,” I say sarcastically. I’m not worried about it. The press isn’t here, we’ve got the whole bed and breakfast, and I know he’s smart enough to make his bed looked slept in. 

“I don’t want details, you know I don’t want details, but you two have sex constantly, don’t you?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” she says, smiling into her cup.

“So, our theory?”

“We might have underestimated the incredibleness.”

***********

The limo picks Donna and I up from the bed and breakfast at 6:45 for our seven o’clock reservation at Cavey’s. She’s wearing a new dress. It’s long and burgundy, with sleeves that go clear to her wrists, and she has on the bracelet I bought her a few months ago and her hair is down and straight, which I love. I’m going to call this the proposal dress, and give it a number 4. You remember my scale? Anyway, all that to say we made-out the entire way to the restaurant. I was forbidden to touch her hair because I didn’t have a comb with me, but I made due by finding my way up her dress.

When we walk into the restaurant, I notice our table right away. CJ did good. It’s next to the fireplace and has a dozen lilies in a vase in the middle. She looks at them and smiles up at me. Later, she yells at me for eating frog legs. But the chicken breast she has is ok? I don’t get women.

***********

After dinner, Josh and I decide to take a walk, and he tells the driver to wait for us. We walk for a few minutes and the snow is barely coming down. It’s really… well, not pretty at all. You like to think that the snow is romantic, but it’s not tonight. It’s not enough to stick to the ground, so it’s just wet and icky. Still, Josh’s arm is around me and he smells incredible, and seeing as we were having sex this morning when CJ was knocking on his door, I’m just gonna go ahead and say it’s been a good day. Josh ate frog legs, but he’s not perfect, and I can’t expect him to be.

“Look at that,” he says to me, pointing to a building.

“Is that…”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s the democratic headquarters now.” We’re standing across the street from the Manchester democratic headquarters, which is the same building we held the first campaign in. Oh, the memories. In fact, in the window is an old Bartlet for America sign. They adore the President here.

“I remember thinking Wisconsin was the coldest place in the world until I showed up here that February.”

“I wonder if it’s the same inside.” He looks at me and smiles.

“Different posters, I’d guess.” 

He takes my hand and starts to cross the street. “Let’s go look.”

“Josh, it’s dark in there. It’s after nine. They’re closed.”

“Come on, we’ll just look through the windows.” He tugs a little harder and we cross the street and look in the window. He stands behind me and holds me around the waist. 

“Remember election night. Everyone else was at the civic center, but we were here, looking at cabinet names.”

He laughs. “Well, there was a lot of work to be done. We were about to win the presidency and everyone else was off partying like all the work was done.” 

Just then, a light flipped on inside and we saw a man walking through the main room. He noticed us and smiled, then came to the door. “Can I help you?” he asks.

I smile at him. “No thanks, we’re fine. We just…”

“We used to work here,” Josh tells him. “When President Bartlet was running for his first term.”

“Oh.” He walks out and shakes our hands. “Andrew Dryer.”

“Josh Lyman. This is Donna Moss.”

“Mr. Lyman, of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you in the dark.”

“That’s alright. Would it be ok if we went in and took a look around.”

“Of course, Sir. There’s an election next year, we’re starting to put information together on local candidates, so it’s kind of messy, but you’re more than welcome.”

“Thanks,” he says, leading us inside.

We walk around for a few minutes and eventually come to the makeshift office Josh used during the campaign. I smile as I look at it from across the large room, a small light coming from inside. I remember it being no more than a desk, boxes, and chaos. 

He takes my glove-covered hand, and leads us into the office, and when I walk in I suddenly can’t breathe. There are several dozen roses in a huge vase on a desk next to a few lit candles. Rose petals are covering the floor, and when I turn around to look at Josh, he’s holding a single rose, which he hands to me.

“What’s….” I drift off, confused and far too surprised to speak.

“This is where we met,” he says simply.

“But…”

“This is where I fell in love with you.” When he says that, I start to cry.

“This is where I fell in love with you too,” I whisper.

“I walked in and you were talking on my phone, and I thought ‘who the hell’s that?’” I can’t help laughing through my tears.

“I got off the phone and you were staring at me like I was nuts. I thought ‘what’s this guy want?’ I was trying to get your office organized before you got back so you’d have no choice but to hire me.”

“I was ready to have you carted out by security. But then you said, ‘I think I could be good at this,’ and you looked… so determined. And right there, as the phone rang, I fell in love with you. I know you think it took me a long time to figure it out, but I knew. Standing right here that day, I knew. I didn’t know what in the hell I was going to do about it, but I knew I loved you.”

“Really?” I whisper.

“Really,” he whispers back, taking my hand in his. Then, he kisses me, and while we’re kissing, he pulls something out of his pocket and puts it in my hand. With my gloves on, I can’t tell what it is, but I close my hand around it. When we break apart, he whispers, “I know what I’m going to do about it now.”

I look at him and smile, and then I look down at my hand and I’m holding a ring, and suddenly I can’t breathe again. “Marry me, Donna.”

And I can’t speak and I still can’t breathe, and I’m all but weeping, and I can’t take my eyes off the ring in my hand, and then Josh takes my hand in his and slips the glove off. “Donna, will you be my wife?” he asks quietly.

Finally, I look up at him and I can see tears in his eyes too. “Will you be my husband?”

“For the rest of my life,” he whispers.

“Promise?” He nods at me and slips the ring on my finger, giving me his life and asking for mine in return. And giving each other all that we have; well, that’s what we do.


	23. Thanksgiving with Mom

“Do I look ok?” Did she just ask me if she looks ok? That’s a loaded question, isn’t it? Some sort of test? Oh…women test men, don’t put it past her. She’s Judas, remember?

“What?” I ask cautiously.

“Do I look ok? Do I have food on my face? Is my hair sticking up in all directions like… well, yours?” Mine? Excuse me? “Does my outfit match? Is it wrinkled? Is my make-up even? You know, do I look ok?” 

I look at her; she looks amazing. She always looks amazing. When her hair’s in a ponytail and that one section that always slips out has slipped out and she’s wearing my bright orange boxers with her maroon La Follette High School Lancer Marching Band t-shirt that’s too small and has the bleach stain on the left shoulder and the frayed out hem and her breath smells really gross because she just woke-up and mascara is smeared underneath her eyes because she fell asleep watching TV on the couch before she washed her face…even then she looks amazing. 

“You look gorgeous,” I say, leaning over and kissing her shoulder. “You always look gorgeous.” 

I’m just starting to think I’m going to get some points for that when she looks at me like I couldn’t possibly know how she really looks. And if that were the case, why’d she ask me? “That’s just because no matter what I’m wearing, you’re picturing me naked.” That’s… well…very true. “I mean to the normal person, Josh. We’re almost there, do I look ok?”

I smile at her; she’s really quite adorable when she’s acting like a lunatic. “Are you nervous?”

“Yes, I’m nervous,” she spits out. “I’m meeting my soon to be mother-in-law when we land. Of course I’m nervous.”

Meeting? “You’ve met my mom several times.”

She sighs her ‘you’re an idiot’ sigh. “But never as her future daughter-in-law. Before, I was just her son’s assistant. She’s going to be judging me on a whole new level now. I need to look good. I need to be charming.” I’m trying not to laugh here on the plane, but she’s having a nutty. “And don’t laugh at me. You’re going to be going through the same thing next month.”

“No, that’s going to be totally different. I’ve got it much worse.” I’m considering faking an illness to get out of it.

“How so?”

“How so?” I screech. How can she ask that? “For one thing, I’ve got two parents to meet; you’ve only got one. And I’ve never met your father before, which means I’ve got to make up for all the bad things he’s heard about me, including sending you to Gaza. Not to mention the fact that you’re the baby and I’m stealing your innocence. I’m also meeting a sister and two brothers, one of which is a high school football coach and could quite possibly kick my ass. Not to mention the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. And every single one of them is a republican.”

“Yeah, well… there are a ton of us, you’ll blend in. I’m going into a mother/son relationship. She’s used to it being just the two of you. She’s used to having all your attention, being the woman in your life. Plus, I’m too young and I’m not Jewish and I’m stealing her baby.” The more she talks, the louder she gets. People are starting to stare.

“Stealing her baby? I’m 42 years old.”

“Exactly! For the last 42 years you’ve been single. Suddenly I waltz in and steal you away.”

“You suddenly walked in seven years ago,” I remind her.

“That’s hardly the point. I can’t even cook!”

What? “What?”

“I can’t cook. I mean, yeah, I can make grilled chicken on the George Foreman, but that hardly counts. Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving and the only help I’m going to be is with the cranberry sauce!” 

“She makes that by scratch,” I say quietly.

“See!” she yells, and I can see tears starting to pool in her eyes. I need to be careful here or I’m going to have a crying Donna on the airplane. This, of course, is a problem, because the only way I know how to fix crying Donna is to make love to her, and that probably isn’t the best idea right here.

“Donna,” I say in a soothing voice, taking her hand in mine. I’m learning stuff like this from Dr. Phil. “My mother loves you, you know that.”

She looks down at our intertwined fingers. “Yeah, she loves me as your loyal assistant. But now I’ve got a new role.”

“A role she’s been trying to get me to give you since she met you at that fundraiser in Hartford a week after you dumped Freeride and came back to the campaign.”

She looks up at me and tilts her head to the side. “Really?” she whispers.

I smile at her. “I thought you knew that.” She shakes her head. “Every phone call for seven years, Donna. Every visit home, every time a friend of hers has a grandchild, do you know what I hear?”

“What?” she asks, sniffling.

I put on my best old woman voice. “When are you going to marry that amazing girl and give me some grandchildren, Joshua? Do you think she’ll wait on you forever? Do you think making yourself miserable dating these shrews you date is going to make you forget how you feel about her? She’s the one Joshua, you only get one and she’s it.”

Now she smiles. “Really?” 

I pick up our joined hands and kiss her knuckles. “Really,” I whisper, leaning over and kissing her neck, just below her ear. 

She sighs as I kiss her, but then she abruptly pulls away. “No marks Joshua, I’m about to meet my future mother-in-law.” This time when she says it, however, she doesn’t sound nervous at all.

**********

“What way do I turn?” he asks, looking over my shoulder at the map.

“Left. She’s lived here for three and a half years, Josh. Shouldn’t you know your way by now?”

“It’s too hot to concentrate,” he mumbles. Of course, what he really means is ‘this isn’t home, why should I know my way?’

“It’s not hot at 9:45 at night, it’s…warm.” 

This catches his attention. “Warm enough for the nightgown I love?” he asks with his eyebrows raised. He was very upset when I announced last weekend that it was too cold for said nightgown and put it away for the winter.

I smile. “Josh, you don’t want me to wear that this weekend. Not when we can’t…. you know.”

“When we can’t what?” he asks.

I look over at him like he’s nuts. Which, let’s face it, he probably is. “When we can’t…explore.”

“What?” he screeches.

“Josh, we’re going to be at your mom’s house. We can’t have sex.”

“What?”

“How many times are you going to ask me that?”

“Are you saying we’re not going to…explore…for the next four days?” he almost yells.

“Yes.”

“Oh, we’re exploring. We can’t go four days without exploring, Donna. We barely make it through an eight-hour workday without attacking each other by the fax machine.”

“First, that’s really you more than me, and second, don’t you mean a fifteen hour workday?”

He looks at me accusingly. “You’re the one who suggests all the lunchtime trips to the car!”

“That’s just making out!”

“We’re exploring, Donna.” He pulls to a stop at the next light and looks over at me seriously. “We can’t go four days, Donna. I’ll die.”

“You’ll die, I guess,” I say sarcastically. It’s really just for appearances. I’ve already looked up hotels within five miles of her condo in case we need to book a room for a few hours while we’re in town. I want him as much as he wants me. It’s really quite sick.

“Four days, Donna!” he says as if that is all the answer required.

I can’t help smiling. “Josh, we explored this morning. You can’t count today. Plus, we can explore all night long when we get home on Saturday, so it’s really just tomorrow and Friday. That’s only two days.”

"There’s no way we can go two days. I can’t make it. I’m a man.”

“We can’t have sex in your mom’s house, Josh.” 

The light turns green and he starts driving again. “Yes we can, we just have to be quiet.”

“Well, that’s been a problem in the past.” Josh and I tend to be somewhat vocal when we’re making love.

“How do you know, we’ve never tried to be quiet before.”

“Yes we have. I seem to recall less than two weeks ago when you were…visiting…my hotel room in New Hampshire. My room, which was next door to Toby’s. We finally had to do it in the shower.”

“Had to?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Because I think we’ve got certain skills in the shower.”

There’s no denying that. “Josh, focus.”

“Ok, so we have sex in the shower all weekend. I can think of worse things.” 

He’s got a very good point there. “Does the room we’re going to use have it’s own bathroom?”

He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Yes.”

“Hmm…”

“Told you we were exploring,” he says triumphantly.

*********

Finally, a knock at the door. It’s about damn time. Their plane landed an hour and half ago, and it’s a twenty minute drive here from the airport. What took them so long? Did they stop on the way and have sex? Don’t look at me like that, I might be 68 years old, but I was madly in love once, still am, really. 

I look out the peephole and Donna is wiping what I can only assume is lipstick from Josh’s mouth. He’s trying to pull her in for what I’m guessing is another kiss, but she keeps batting his hands away and smiling at him. This is pretty entertaining; I’m sure Mable Wilson from across the street is thoroughly enjoying it.

My wonderful, brilliant son is here. And I’m not just saying that because he’s my son. I’m well aware of the fact that he’s… how should I phrase this….less than perfect. I can see how he might be perceived as… demanding…opinionated…stubborn…egotistical…

Anyway, Donna sees through all that. She sees that he’s loyal, she knows how to deal with his ego, and she can match him intellectually, which isn’t easy. Plus, she just so obviously adores him. It’s easy to see even through a peephole. And that’s all a mother really wants; for her son to find someone who absolutely loves him for everything that he is, good and bad. Well, and grandchildren, of course. So now if I can just get him to propose without waiting another seven years, I’ll have it made. Maybe I’ll put that bug in his ear while he’s here this weekend. What? I’m his mother; it’s my job.

I watch them for a few more seconds and finally open the door. “Let go of her Joshua, she’s on vacation,” I say with a smile.

He lets go of her and leans in to give me a hug. “Hi, Mom.”

“You’ve got lipstick on your face,” I say just to embarrass him. When he pulls back, he just smiles and wipes his face with his hands, far too in love to be embarrassed.

“Donna, it’s wonderful to see you!” I step back and Josh takes Donna’s hand and comes inside. 

“It’s good to see you too, Victoria,” she says and we hug. I look over and see Josh standing back smiling at the two of us. Happy isn’t a word I would’ve ever used to describe him before. Euphoric, excited, joyous even, but never just out and out happy. Not until right now have I ever just seen the look of pure happiness and contentment on his face. I knew she was the one. 

I pull back from Donna and take her hands in mine. “So, you and I…” I trail off when I feel something on her hand. I look down and see a ring on her left ring finger. And not just a ring; a gorgeous ring that my son so obviously did not pick out on his own. I stare at it for several seconds and neither Josh nor Donna says anything. When I finally look back up, I can’t help stop the tears that are starting to fall down my face, and I can’t really speak or stop smiling, so I just pull her in and give her another hug. I’m hugging my future daughter-in-law. How I’ve missed having a daughter. 

**********

Well, we were here all of two minutes when both my mom and my fiancé were crying and hugging. It was enough to make a grown man a bit emotional. Shut-up. 

Anyway, we’re here, we’ve visited, we’ve…explored in the shower three times (last night, this morning, this afternoon), we’ve eaten large quantities of food, we’ve been to the condo association Thanksgiving get-together, we’ve met the neighbors (all old), we’ve showed off the ring, we’ve defended the President, we’ve been asked when we’re having children 42 times (7 or 8 of those times was from my mom), we’ve eaten mince meat pie (yuck) with Mable Wilson (whom my mom doesn’t even like), we’ve discussed what Mom and Donna call my refrigerator disorder, we’ve driven to the beach, we’ve made-out on the beach (didn’t take Mom to the beach), we’ve discussed wedding plans, we’ve (or rather they’ve) tried to get me to spill the beans about the honeymoon, and we’ve gone through embarrassing photo albums of my youth (which may or may not have included a picture of me with a mullet). What haven’t we done, you ask? We haven’t watched football. Apparently watching football on Thanksgiving is not what we do.

I’ve been told that tomorrow I’m allowed to either A: sit in the condo all day, eat leftovers, watch whatever sports I choose, and check in at work, or B: get up at 4:30 in the morning to be at the mall when it opens at 6:00 for the day after Thanksgiving sales. Guess which one I’ve picked.

Right now, I’m doing my very favorite thing in the world. Well, definitely one of my top five favorite things in the world. I’m kissing Donna’s breasts. My goal, of course, is to get a third trip to the shower today. Well, fourth, but one of those times I was actually showering.

“Josh, honey, as much as I’m….” she pauses and arches up into my mouth, “enjoying this, we can’t take….that feels nice….”

I don’t even pretend not to be amused. “I’m sorry, what can’t we do?” I ask with a chuckle as I switch breasts.

She takes her fingers from my hair and starts massaging my shoulders, digging into them with her fingernails. “Josh…” That came out as a moan.

“Let’s go take a shower, Donna,” I growl out.

“We’ve already taken three today,” she breathes out as she pulls my face up and pretty much devours my mouth with hers.

When we break, I go back to her breasts as I start snaking my hand into her pajama bottoms. When I reach where I’m going, I’m smart enough to kiss her again in attempts to swallow any moans she makes. “She’s not counting,” I whisper as I start trailing kisses down her stomach. When I reach her waist, I pull her pajama bottoms off and start kissing her hipbone.

She arches up into me and slams her head back into the pillow. “Shower, Josh. Let’s go…take a shower.”

And she thought we weren’t going to have sex this weekend.

**********

“So, hygiene must be very important to the two of you,” she says casually as we walk through Linens and Things. 

I immediately start choking. ‘She’s not counting’ my ass. There’s a rather long, awkward pause, and finally I say, “Well, he’s…umm…he’s…” Very smooth Donna.

“Messy?” she asks with laughter in her voice. 

“Yes, very messy.” I’m going to be ill.

“Noah was very…messy too. That’s why whenever we visited his parents or mine we both showered a lot. I didn’t want anyone to know how…messy he was.” Please God, let me die right here.

“It must run in the family,” I say weakly in a voice that sounds kind of like I’m trying to swallow vomit, which isn’t far from the truth.

“So,” she says, hopefully changing the subject. “How’s it going living with Josh? It must be…challenging.” Thank you Lord.

“Actually, it’s going extremely well. Our biggest obstacle so far is the refrigerator.”

“What’d you have to throw away this time?”

I laugh. “Not much. I’m learning not to keep it too stocked. Milk products had to go. A few apples, some lunchmeat, and the butter.”

“The butter?”

I roll my eyes. “I know.”

“What about the horrible comforter on his bed?” she asks, walking into the bedding area.

“That was gone a week after we started dating. No way I was gonna sleep…” The vomit feeling is back. 

“I don’t blame you. I don’t think he picked that out. His taste is bad, but not that bad. Now tell me, are you worried in the slightest about the wedding he and Sam have planned?”

“I was at first, naturally. But the Chesapeake Bay Beach Club is really very nice. And he didn’t plan any of the details; he just booked the club so we could get the date. Anniversaries are very important to him.”

“He gets that from his father. That and the messiness, apparently.” She adds that last part while raising her eyebrows. 

“Right, the messiness,” I say, hanging my head a little. She knows. There’s no use hiding it. Josh and I are going at it like rabbits in her condo and she knows it, and obviously doesn’t care. Be an adult, Donna. It’s just the mother of the man you have sex with an average of…I don’t know, 15 times a week. Why be embarrassed? It’s perfectly normal to discuss sex with your mother-in-law. Her son is absolutely amazing in bed, she’d probably be happy to hear it. 

“Are you letting him help with the arrangements?” This woman can switch topics nearly as well as I can. I’m impressed.

“We met with the coordinator there last Saturday and picked out the food, music, and flowers, he mostly just smiled and nodded. We also booked a string quartet the White House has used several times. He and Toby wanted to help CJ and me pick out my dress, but I…as Josh likes to say…nipped it.”

“They really thought you’d let them help?”

“Something about a team. I don’t pretend to understand everything about your son. I understand him more than most, but I’m no mind reader.”

“There are some places even the bravest explorer should never go, Donna.”

**********

I took Josh and Donna to my favorite Cuban restaurant in town tonight. When we got back, I told Josh that he smelled like the food at the restaurant and should go shower. Donna’s face turned the shade of a tomato. It was fun.

It was an hour or so after that when I made up an excuse and went to bed so they could in fact…shower. I was planning on staying up and visiting with them, since they’re leaving tomorrow, but then I remember what it was like when Noah and I got together. We couldn’t get enough of each other. And I looked over at Josh, who kept putting his hands on Donna’s thigh and in her hair, kissing her neck and shoulder, whispering things to her… It was sweet. I think he might have some sort of obsession with her hair, but I’m not gonna dwell on it. 

So here I am, at 3:15 in the morning, drinking tea in the dark in my kitchen, thinking about how three days with my son and…daughter…just isn’t enough. “Hey, Mom,” Josh says quietly, walking into the kitchen in boxers and a t-shirt. 

“What’re you doing up?” 

He shrugs. “How ‘bout you?”

“Just thinking about… I don’t know. I don’t like it when you leave.”

He kisses my cheek and pours himself some tea. “You’ll see us in three months for the wedding.” He takes a drink. “This is really bad coffee.”

I shake my head and smile. “It’s tea.”

“Well, that explains it,” he says, taking another drink.

“Donna’s parent’s are coming for the wedding?” I ask.

“Yeah, her sister and two brothers and their wives too. Other than that, it’s just Toby, CJ, Sam, Leo, Margaret, Carol, Charlie and the Bartlet’s. We want it small.”

“Who’s going to run the White House?”

“Debbie,” he says smiling.

We sit quietly for a few minutes before either of us says anything else. “You know, your father would love her.” 

He looks up at me from his cup. “Yeah… I wonder if…”

“Yes, she’d love her too.”

“You think so?”

“Have you ever met anyone who didn’t?”

He smiles. “No, I guess not.”

“Then I think it’s safe to assume she would have adored the woman who made her brother so happy.”

“I am happy,” he whispers with a silly grin on his face.

When he says that, I can’t help reaching out and putting my palm on his cheek. “I know you are baby,” I say before turning around to leave. I get clear to the doorway before I just can’t help myself. “I could tell by all the times you had sex in the shower this weekend.”


	24. Christmas in Cheeseland

“Toothbrushes?”

“Check.”

“Shampoo?”

“Check.”

“Refrigerator?”

“Check.”

“What do you mean by check?”

“Milk, cheese, thawed meats, and mayonnaise.”

“What about butter?”

“We don’t have any.”

“What about the sugar and flour?”

“What about them?”

“They’re out on the counter in those things you bought. Is there cause for concern there?”

“Not for the normal person, no.”

“Ok. I’m ok. It’s fine.”

“Good.”

“What about produce?”

“I thought you were fine.”

“Produce, Donna, produce.”

“I made a stew with the last of it the other day.”

“Is there stew in there?”

“No. We ate it all.”

“Ok. I think we’re ready.”

“Let’s go.”

“It’s not too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“The bed and breakfast, watching the waves, making love by the fire…”

“We made love by the fire right over there last night.”

“Not overlooking the ocean.”

“Trust me when I tell you that ocean or not, I was only looking at you.”

**********

“Do I look ok?” Did he just ask me if he looks ok? 

“What?” Since when has Josh cared if he looks ok?

“Do I look ok? Do I have food on my face? Is my hair sticking up in all directions like… well, like it usually does? Is this sweater too casual? Are jeans ok or should I have gone with a suit? You know, do I look ok?” 

This conversation sounds eerily familiar. And to me, Josh always looks good. Especially in jeans and a sweater. In fact, he looks hot as hell, I’ve had to bite my tongue to keep from suggesting something vulgar here in the airplane. We won’t go there; you don’t want to know. Suffice it to say, he looks good. 

“Are you nervous?” 

“Yes, I’m nervous,” he screeches. “Your ex-marine father and football coach brother are meeting us at the airport.”

“They’re just trying to intimidate you,” I say, smiling at him. He’s just so cute like this.

“Well, it’s working.”

“My mother adores you, stay close to her. They’re all afraid of her, they won’t hurt you when she’s around.” I put my hand on his knee and squeeze gently.

“What are you doing?”

“What?”

“What? No touching, that’s what.” To accent this, he picks up my hand and puts in on my own knee.

What? “No touching?”

“No. You cannot touch me this weekend.”

“I can’t touch you this weekend.” Like that’s gonna happen.

“No. Not near your father.”

“We’re on a plane. My father’s on the ground.”

“We need the practice.” He’s freaking out. This is so much fun.

I lean in very close to his ear, which makes him stiffen and choke a little. “What about the shower?” I say in a low, sexy voice.

He shakes his head back and forth very quickly several times. “The shower didn’t work. My mother knew. Your father will know and he’ll break the door down and kill me, marine fashion.”

I try not to laugh. “So we’re going to go three days without exploring?” 

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. We’re still on the at least once a day, usually twice, occasionally three times schedule. “No. No. Don’t even joke about that. Didn’t you book the hotel?”

“I told you, my mom said we’re staying with them.” In separate rooms, but since there’s no touching, he probably won’t have a problem with that.

“Doesn’t matter, Donna. We book the hotel and sneak off there a few times a day.”

Can’t fault that logic. “You’re ok paying for a hotel for three nights that we’re not sleeping in?”

“It’s either that or three days without exploring. And that’s not an option. I could die.” He could die? I doubt that.

“Fine,” I say smiling and brushing his leg with mine. “I’ll call when we land.”

“Good, now don’t touch me.”

********** 

The plane lands and it becomes hard to breathe. We sat in an emergency exit row, and I had my eye on the door the entire flight. If I’d just turned counter-clockwise and pushed and I could’ve been out here, what was I thinking?

Donna keeps touching me. I think she’s in on it with them. 

When we finally get off the plane, I carry both our bags. She looks at me like I’ve killed Josh and replaced him with a double, but I have to be chivalrous in front of her father. It’s all part of the plan. The Tricking Donna’s Dad Into Liking Me plan. The plan has many parts to it. They are as follows:

1\. Chivalry – Complete and total chivalry, Donna carries nothing, gets nothing for me. I act as much like a slave to her as possible while still looking like a man.  
2\. Food – I eat her mother’s cooking, no matter what, and make no comments about Donna’s lack of cooking. She’s a fantastic cook, I love George Foreman chicken and unidentifiable stew.  
3\. Yard work - Help with any yard work that needs to be done. They don’t have farm animals, so I should be ok.   
4\. Dishes - Help with the dishes. This is primarily so he thinks I do that at home. And it’s not that I don’t. I try to help load the dishwasher, but Donna says I don’t do it right, so she always takes over and I end up just trying to get under her top while she works.  
5\. Gentleman - Be a complete gentleman the entire weekend, treating Donna like porcelain. I cannot fondle, massage, kiss, nuzzle, or do any sort of exploring anywhere near Mr. Moss. I can put my hand on the small of her back when we’re walking (falls under chivalry), and it’s possible that a kiss on the cheek would be deemed appropriate, but we’re going to have to determine that when the circumstance arrives. That’s it for the touching.   
6\. Touching - Donna cannot touch me at all. I become easily aroused when Donna touches me, and that’s the last thing we need.  
7\. Humor - No saying Donna’s lucky to have me. No comments on lunacy trivia or similar things. I’m the lucky one, and I need to mention that at least twice a day. Any trivia that she spouts off, in fact, every time she opens her mouth, I want to hear it. I’m dying to hear it.  
8\. Politics – No fighting about politics. This could be the hardest one, but I’ve been practicing with Matt Skinner for the last two weeks. We go to lunch and I tell him to lay it on me. He comes out with all his gay marriage sucks crap, his guns are awesome falsities, his let poor people die hungry nonsense, and his death tax bullshit, and I just smile and nod. It’s been tough, but I cannot, I repeat, I cannot go off on Donna’s parents just because they’re naïve enough to be republicans. Anyway, I’m outnumbered there. I’ll never make it out alive.  
9\. Cheeseland - No cheese jokes. No jokes about the word pop. No jokes about NASCAR. I don’t know if he’s a fan, but there are millions of them, so I’m not taking any chances. Show total respect for teachers, not that I wouldn’t do that anyway. Basically, don’t be disparaging to anyone for any reason.   
10\. Provider - Be prepared to talk about the future and kids and what type of IRA and 401K programs I have. Father’s like to know their daughters are being taken care of.  
11\. Ace In The Hole - Suck up to her mom and grandmothers. I’m no idiot; if I use my dimples the women are putty in my hands, and they’re my way in.

So, that’s the plan. What do you think?

**********

Josh carries both of our carry-on bags through the airport and into baggage claim, then proceeds to get our one suitcase as well. Thank goodness it has wheels. I try to hold his hand twice, but am refuted both times. In fact, not only am I refuted, he gives me the Judas look as well. Does he think I’ve brought him here to sacrifice him to the Moss family?

No! They wouldn’t. Just as I’m thinking that Josh is being overly paranoid, I spot my dad, both of my brothers, my brother-in-law, six… no, seven of my uncles, two of my nephews, and one of my grandfathers waiting for us. Every one of them has his arms crossed over his chest and a look of contempt on his face. No wonder Josh is afraid.

My eyes get huge and I waive a little, trying to figure out how to tell Josh that my dad and brother turned into fourteen of my male relatives. He’s going to freak! “Honey, don’t panic.”

“Why did you call me honey?” he asks in a panicked voice. I shouldn’t have gone with a nickname. I should’ve known he’d see through it.

“It’s gonna be fine, Josh. Just remember, they’re only trying to intimidate you. You just have to show that you can take it and they’ll let you go. My brother-in-law went through this, two other of my sister’s boyfriends have been through it, just show that you’re tough. You’ll be fine,” I say, squeezing his arm.

“Don’t touch me, Donna. They could be anywhere.”

“Actually, they’re right there,” I say, pointing to the huge crowd of men.

“Where?” 

I point again. “There,” I mumble.

“Next to those…” his voice turns into a squeak, “mean… looking… guys?”

“Actually….”

He looks at me like he might cry... or run. “No.”

I nod slowly. “Yes.”

“You said two, Donna! You said two!”

“That’s what I was told.”

He keeps shaking his head. “I can’t do this. I’m lunchmeat. I won’t even make it to the house.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Just remember, it’s a test.”

“Not one I can pass!”

“Joshua Lyman, you are a brilliant political mastermind. These are just men. You’ve chewed up more than that just for fun. You are tough, you are strong, you are powerful.”

He takes a deep breath and nods. “Right, I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit, let’s go.” He’s toast.

********* 

Donna and I walk up to the eighty people who have come to kill me, and she gives one of them a big hug. I think he’s the father. He looks a lot like her, and he seems to be their leader. I stand back a few feet and let her have time with him. She can take as much time as she wants. I look around at the others with a smile, but they just stare at me. Help.

When she pulls away from the leader, she turns to me, takes me by the arm and pulls me up close to her. Too close I think. One of the others makes a noise, an animalistic I’m-going-to-kill-him noise. She and I need to review the no touching rule.

“Dad, this is my fiancé, Josh Lyman. Josh, this is my dad, Gary Moss.”

“Lyman,” he says sternly, shaking my hand so hard that it hurts. 

“Mr. Moss, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You’ve had opportunities before, I assumed you were avoiding me.” Well, we’re off to a good start. 

“No sir, I’ve been looking forward to this for years,” I say with a smile. Let go of my hand please, I can’t feel my fingers.

See, Donna’s parents have been to DC to visit Donna five or six times in the six years she’s lived there. And yes, I’ve had opportunities to meet them several times, and yes, I’ve avoided it like the plague. Maybe more than the plague.

“And this is my brother Joe, my brother Anthony, my brother-in-law Eric, my grandfather Bill Rubino, my uncles Robert, Steven, Scott, Gray, Ken, Chris, and Len, and my cousins Daniel and Richard.” I quickly shake hands with each one of them. None of them smile, and they all shake really, really hard. Well, not her grandfather, but the others.

“Lyman, you’ll ride with Joe, Anthony, Eric and myself. Donna, you can ride with your grandfather and your cousins, we’ll meet you at the house.” They’re splitting us up?????

I play cool. Do not show fear, that’s what they want. Donna comes up to me and kisses me… on the lips! Is she trying to get me killed? I can’t act like she repulses me, so I chastely kiss her back and follow some people out of the airport. I just hope it’s the right ones. It’s worth mentioning that no one offers to help with the luggage, which just reiterates my theory that they only came for my death, and suddenly I’m thinking that I may just have kissed Donna for the last time and I didn’t even use tongue!

********** 

“Lyman, wake-up.”

I open my eyes and… hell I don’t know, someone is standing over me with gloves on. He’s going to kill me and not leave prints. 

“Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” I ask in a whisper. I’m sharing the den with Richard. He and Anthony and his wife are the only relative other than Donna that live outside of Madison. Because “this is home and you stay near your family.” I’m quoting Donna’s dad there. Anyway, he and I are sharing the den. He’s on the futon, I’m on a blow up mattress on the floor. It slowly deflated through the night and I’ve been sleeping on solid floor for the last few hours. I think they knew about the whole. In fact, I think they took a safety pin to this thing before I got here.

“We’re helping Grandpa Moss at the farm this morning.”

“What?”

“We’re going to Grandpa Moss’ to help on the farm. You’ve got fifteen minutes, you might want breakfast before we leave.”

“Umm… ok.” I get up and go into the restroom, where I proceed to panic. The farm? What the hell am I going to do on the farm? I can’t be trusted with machinery, I’ll get myself killed. Maybe that’s the plan. I don’t even know what to wear. Jeans? A flannel shirt? I don’t have a flannel shirt. All I packed were sweaters. I can’t do farm work with a sweater on! 

I finally realize that I have no choice, and put on jeans and a sweater. I go for the oldest one, figuring it’s going to be a goner after today. Then I go downstairs where many men are eating cereal. I’m so confused. When we went to bed, there was only Richard, Gary, and Anthony here. Why are there fifteen guys standing around the kitchen, and why are they all staring at me?

“You can’t wear that.”

“I… Donna didn’t tell me we’d be working on the farm, I didn’t come prepared.”

“Damn politicians can’t even dress appropriately for an honest day’s work,” Mr. Moss says to one of the uncles. I don’t know which.

Stay calm Josh. They out number you. “I’ll make due in this, Sir.”

Thankfully, Anthony takes pity on me. “You look like an idiot. I’ve got something for you upstairs.” He doesn’t smile, but he leaves to get me something and I fight the urge to run after him and hug him, even though he did call me an idiot.

“You ever worked on a farm before, Lyman?” the brother-in-law asks.

“Not exactly.”

“What’s not exactly?”

“Well, I’ve… fought for more government funding for farmers,” I reply like a pansy-ass as I pour some cereal into a bowl sitting on the table. I pick up the milk and silently freak out that the sell by date was yesterday. I can do this. I can drink the spoiled milk. I’m going to be sick. Breathe, Josh, breathe.

I take a few bites, choking it down along with the vile that keeps surfacing, until Anthony saves me again by tossing boots, a long underwear type shirt, a flannel shirt, and some work gloves to me. “Hurry, there’s work to be done before dawn. We don’t have all day.” Again, I don’t care that he’s mean to me, I want to give him a big hug.

********** 

“Where did they take him?” I ask, sitting down at the table with my mom, my sister Marie, and my sister-in-law Holly, drinking coffee and wearing flannel pajamas. I love flannel pajamas.

“You’re father said something about them working on Grandpa Moss’ farm.”

I look up. “But Grandpa hasn’t worked that farm in years. He rents it out to Mr. Stahlhut.”

“Yes.”

“They’re just trying to torture him?” 

“He’ll be fine, honey. He’s a smart man.”

“But he’s not a farmer!”

“No one will let him get hurt,” Marie says. 

“He’s pretty cute,” says Holly. 

“Yes, he is,” says Marie. “We’re going to need some details.”

“Details?”

“Details. And not about work. We couldn’t care less about that.”

I look up at my mom and then back at Marie. “No details.”

“Oh, come on. I want details,” Mom says.

I take a deep breath and can’t help smiling. “Ok, but everything I say vaulted. I don’t want your husbands using any information I’m about to give up.”

“Of course. Vaulted.” 

“He’s amazing. He loves surprises, he likes to do little things for me, rub my back, buy me Ben and Jerry’s when it’s been a bad day. He’s big on anniversaries and statements; He took me to the exact place we met to propose to me. He makes me pancakes on Sunday’s and we spend the whole day in our pajamas lying in bed. He likes to blow dry my hair. And he touches me all the time. His hands are always in my hair, on my back, around my waist, it’s amazing. It gets better every day.”

“Isn’t that sweet?” Marie says. “We were talking about sex.”

I laugh. “Right.” I look down into my coffee cup. “Unbelievable. At least once a day. Multiple orgasms,” I say as quickly as possible.

********** 

Nineteen hours. I’ve been in Cheeseland for nineteen hours. “You’re doing it wrong, Lyman.”

“I am?”

“Is there any milk in that bucket?”

I look down into the bucket. “No.”

“That’s because you’re doing it wrong.”

“Oh.” Brother-in-law, Eric I think, sits on a stool next to me and shows me how to milk the cow. Which is just great, I’ve always wanted to do that, especially on Christmas Eve. But once he shows me, I’m not half bad at it. “Hey, milk!”

He smiles, but if goes away very quickly and the scowl comes back. “You might not be useless after all.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“I guess,” he says in a bored tone.

“Did they hate you at first too?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

“Of course, I wasn’t dating the baby. Who has not such stellar taste in men.”

“Right.”

“When you’re done there, Dad wants you to help him stack hay. He’s in the hay barn.” He calls him dad; I’m still at Mr. Moss.

“Kay.” I finish the milking, under the watchful eye of Eric. He helps a little, even though he pretends he’s above it. I think he feels for me. He accidentally smiled at me twice. He’s been where I am; he knows what I’m going through.

When I’m done, I leave the barn I’m in and look around. There are three other barns that I can see, how am I supposed to find the hay barn? I finally decide to just pick one and I head for the closest. “The hay barn!” Eric yells, pointing to one of the other ones and shaking his head at me. See, he’s helping.

When I get to the hay bar, Mr. Moss is standing up on a loft type thing. “Start bringing the hay over, Lyman.” What? Start bringing the hay over? The bales of hay are taller than me, not to mention width. I’m just supposed to pick them up and carry them?

I look at a bale. “How exactly am I supposed to do that, Sir?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes at me and points to a tractor with hay on it. “You’ve driven a tractor before, right?”

“Umm…”

“You’re kidding me,” he growls, climbing down and walking towards the tractor. Yeah, he hates me.

********** 

It’s been six hours. If they aren’t back from wherever it is they took him, we won’t get to the hotel before dinner. I need to go to the hotel. NEED.

********** 

We’re out in a field now. There’s no one else around. He could kill me now and no one would have a clue. It’s just him, hay and me. I’m driving a tractor and he’s sitting next to me. We’re on our way out to get more hay to put in the hay barn.

“You’re old.” Here we go.

“Excuse me, Sir?”

“You’re old. What? Twelve years older than her?”

“Yes Sir.” Well, I knew this was going to come up.

“Is she a trophy to you?” he asks with squinted eyes.

“She’s everything to me, Sir.”

“You going through some kind of mid-life crisis?” No, that was Amy.

“No Sir, I just love her.”

“She’s not as educated as you.”

“No, but she’s as smart as me.”

“She has bad taste in men.”

Isn’t that the truth? However, I don’t think I should say that, so I nod. “I don’t pretend to deserve her, Sir.” You notice all the sirs? It’s part of the plan.

“Why’d you wait so long?”

“I didn’t want to risk her reputation. DC can be cruel.” i.e. Republicans can be cruel.

“Then why now?”

I look over at him and stop driving. “I couldn’t wait another second.” He just nods. Yes! Round one, Lyman.

********** 

Finally! I hear Dad’s Tahoe pull up and go to the door. Josh gets out with a big smile on his face, but he grimaces just a little and puts his hand on his back. Then, as though it never happened, the smile is back and he walks towards the door. When he sees me, he leans over and kisses me on the cheek.

“You smell.” Whoa. What did they do to him?

“Very badly.”

“What happened to you?” He’s filthy. He has mud all over his arms and face, and little scratches on his hands.

“We were helping you’re grandfather out on the farm. We were working like men. I feel young, energized, in touch with nature.”

“Your back is killing you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it hurts really bad,” he whines.

“We’ve got two hours before dinner. We could…go explore if you take a very quick shower. That is, unless your back hurts too bad.”

“I’ll be ready to go in ten minutes. Six. Six minutes.”

I make an excuse of needing to run to the store and seventeen minutes later, Josh and I are at the Super 8 two miles from my parent’s. 

“I missed you today,” I tell him as I’m peeling his sweater off him.

Once it’s gone, his lips fasten themselves to neck. In between little bites and kisses, he says, “I was working hard.”

“My big tough man,” I say, finding it hard to stand. 

“I drove a tractor,” he says, pulling my t-shirt over my head.

“A big one?” I ask, unbuttoning his pants.

“Yes… and I milked a cow,” he says, capturing my nipple between his top teeth and bottom lip.

“Ahh… yes…that’s… yeah…”

“And I stacked hey,” he whispers, lightly pushing down on the bed and pulling down my pants. I sit up and pull his pants down, then push him on his back and straddle him.

“You’ve worked hard. Let me work now,” I say kissing my way down his stomach. 

********** 

“Wake-up, Lyman,” Anthony whispers to me.

“What?”

“Come on. We’re leaving in ten minutes. I put clothes in the bathroom for you.”

“Where are we going?”

“Hunting.”

“Hunting? On Christmas?”

“We gotta catch dinner. You know how to use a bow and arrow?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t, do you?”

“No.” He just shakes his head at me. They just can’t believe that someone like me has made it in this big bad world.

I get up and go into the bathroom. Camouflage? I’ve never worn camouflage in my life. The things I do for her…

I get dressed and go downstairs where everyone’s eating cereal. I look at the milk out of the corner of my eye. It’s the same milk as yesterday!!! How can they drink that?

Ten minutes later, I’m in the back of a pick-up truck. It’s 4:15. In the morning. In December. Just thought you should know. One of the uncles tosses something to me and tells me to put it on. I open the lid; it’s green… paint?

“It’s for your face, Lyman.” Why don’t they call me Josh?

“My face?” He just shakes his head and takes it from me, dipping his fingers in it and covering his face with it. Oh, good lord. When he’s done, he tosses it back to me. I stare at it for a minute and then put it on. 

Thirty minutes later, I’m in a tree house wearing camouflage and green make-up, holding a bow and arrow. My instructions were “point, pull back and let go. Don’t hit anyone.” Ok.

I’m in the tree house with the brothers this morning. Anthony and Joe. I’m not real sure which is which. “She should go back to school,” one of them says.

“I’m sorry?”

“She should go back to school.”

And it begins again. “Well, that’s an option anytime she chooses it.”

“Schools in DC are pretty expensive.”

Just nod and smile. “If she wants to go back to school, she can go.”

“She dated a guy who cheated on her once,” the football coach one says.

“I know.”

“We beat the shit out of him,” he says, looking me deep in the eye.

I stare right back at him. “Good.”

“Got one!” someone yells. Got one what?

“Let’s go,” football brother says, climbing out of the tree we’re in.

I follow and we run I don’t know how far until we get to a clearing where Mr. Moss, brother-in-law, and seven or eight of the others are standing in a circle looking at the ground. Please don’t let it be Bambi.

We walk up to the circle and there’s a dead turkey lying there. “I caught it, that means I don’t have to clean it,” Richard says. 

There’s a round of good jobs, and compliments on the size and then the fateful words. “Grab it Lyman, let’s go.”

Grab it? “What?”

“Come on. We gotta get it home and cleaned so Mom can cook it,” brother-in-law says.

“Pick it up?”

“It’s dead, it won’t bite.”

“Umm… are you sure it’s dead?”

“Pretty sure. Just grab it by the feet and let’s go.”

I stare at it for a few more seconds and then I hear one of the cousins make some comment about me being a pansy. I obviously can’t let that go unanswered, so I bend down and pick it up by its feet, and carry it as far away from my body as possible to the truck. It’s about a ten-minute walk, and it’s pretty heavy. No one offers to help.

When we get back to the house, it’s almost seven. I’m thinking that the worst is over until Grandpa Moss tells me to take the bird into the garage. He follows me in and the next thing I know, I’m plucking the damn thing! I miss DC.

“I’m eighty two years old,” he says out of the blue. Let me reiterate. I’m plucking. He’s just standing there telling me what to do.

“Yes Sir.” How do you respond to a statement like that?

“I fought in World War II.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Thank me? Why.”

“I had a grandfather in a concentration camp, Sir. I’m grateful for what you did to help him.”

He looks at me. I don’t think he was expecting that answer. “Did he survive?”

“Yes, Sir, he did. He passed away when I was eleven.”

“What would he think of my granddaughter?”

I smile. “He’d think I was the luckiest man in the world.”

He nods at me. “He’d be right.”

“Yes, Sir, he would be.”

**********

“We have to hurry, Josh.”

“I’m hurrying.”

“We have to be back in forty-five minutes, I have to help make dinner.”

“Then stop interrupting me.”

“I’m just saying, we don’t have time for all the bells and whistles.”

He looks up from between my legs. “Bells and whistles?”

I gesture between his face and my… you know. “Bells and whistles.”

“But I like the bells and whistles,” he whines.

“Oh, believe me, so do I. Tonight, we’ll come back after dinner and presents and you can bell and whistle all you want to.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely.”

********** 

I look out the kitchen window into grandma and grandpa’s backyard. The boys are playing football. Between the eight uncles, my dad, my brothers, Eric, Josh and the cousins, it’s pretty much a full game. I’m not surprised to see that Josh is blocking Joe. Joe went to the University of Wisconsin on a football scholarship, and has been a high school football coach for eight years. But even if he didn’t play at all, he’d still be kicking Josh’s ass; he outweighs him by about eighty pounds. Yet, every time Joe knocks him down, Josh gets right back up and blocks him again. That’s my man.

About a half hour later, my nephew Jeff runs into the kitchen. “We need a few band aids and maybe an ace bandage.” Oh no.

“What happened?” my mom asks.

“Uncle Joey killed Donna’s boyfriend.”

My mom, grandmother, sister-in-law and I go out to the backyard. Josh is up walking around, limping like one of his legs is six inches shorter than the other. “Are you ok?” I ask, running up to him.

He nods through gritted teeth. “Yeah, I’m good. Just playing a little football.”

My grandmother turns to my brother. “What did you do to him?” 

“Nothing! He just got in the way when I was running to the goal line.”

“I got the tackle,” Josh grits out.

“Luck,” Joe says.

“Honey,” my grandmother says to Josh. I’m not going to say anything, but I think she has a crush on him. “Go inside and take off your pants so I can look at your leg.” See? I told you.

“Umm…” Josh looks at me for help. “I’m fine.”

“Come on, Josh. Walk it off. Don’t be a wuss,” my uncle Chris yells.

“Josh,” I say quietly.

“I’m fine,” he says, kissing me on the cheek and running back to the game, trying to hide his limp.

“Women…” Eric says.

And just as I walk away, I hear Josh say to him, “Aren’t they amazing?”

**********

After dinner, we open gifts. What kind of weird tradition is that? Gifts Christmas night? Whatever, I’m not going to say anything. We’re out of here in less than 24 hours; I can make it.

Donna picked out the gifts for her family. There was a drawing done at some point, so the only people we had to buy for were her parents, her sister-in-law, Beth and her uncle Chris. Joe drew me, and got me a really cool scarf glove set that everyone knows his wife Holly picked out, and Donna’s aunt Beth picked her and bought her some perfume. Her parents got us a crystal vase from Tiffany’s. Donna and I are exchanging gifts tomorrow night when we get home, but we brought one gift each here to exchange with the family. I had to be careful when deciding which gift to bring for her to open. I didn’t want to bring something cheap, but I didn’t want to bring something that would look like I was trying to show off either. I opted out of the necklace I bought her, which CJ made me buy even though it limits my access to her neck. I also opted out of the lingerie I bought her from Victoria’s Secret for reasons that should be clear. I also opted out of the day at the spa I bought her because I got CJ one too so they could go together, and I wanted them to open it together. Instead, I went with…

“Tickets to ‘Aida’?”

“You like musicals.”

“I love musicals! I can’t believer you got me tickets to a musical!”

“And I’m not even going to complain while we’re there, it’s part of the gift,” I say with a big smile on my face. I did well; all the women in the room are oohing and aahing.

“These are for New Year’s Eve!” one of the aunts says, looking at the tickets.

“Yeah, they come with hotel reservations on Broadway so we can watch the ball drop after the show,” I say quietly.

And then Donna jumps up from her spot and throws herself into my arms and I decide to forget the no touching rule for the time being and hold her close and whisper that I love her. Then she decides to break the no touching rule even more and kisses me long and deep right there in front of all the men that want me dead. But I decide that it’s worth it and kiss her back.

********** 

“Wake-up, Lyman.”

Oh hell, not again. “I’m up,” I whisper.

“Come on, we need you down stairs.”

“Coming. Just gotta…” I point to the bathroom.

“Well, hurry.”

A few minutes later, I go downstairs, at 5:22am, and the men are in the kitchen staring at me. What now? “Morning, everyone.”

“Lyman, we need breakfast,” a cousin says.

“What?”

“The girls left to go shopping. We need you to make us breakfast.”

“Make you breakfast? All of you?” There’s like twenty of us.

“Of course, all of us. You gonna make breakfast for just some of us?”

“Right. How ‘bout we go out to breakfast. I’ll buy.”

“No. It’s football day,” one of them says as though that explains everything. Ok, whatever.

“What do we have to make?” I ask.

“Nothing, you’re going to have to go to the store. We want eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, toast… anything else?” he asks the men around him.

“Get stuff for omelets. Do you know how to make omelets?”

“Yeah, sure.” No I don’t know how to make omelets!

“I’ll go with him. He’ll just get lost on his own,” Mr. Moss grumbles out. Yeah, haven’t quite succeeded with the plan yet. I grab my wallet and off we go.

Ten minutes later, we’re walking through the Wal-Mart SuperCenter, buying enough food to feed a small army. I’m over buying, I know, but I’m NOT going back there with too little.

“Donna seemed to like her Christmas gift from you,” Mr. Moss says to me.

“I hope so, Sir. I like to make her happy.”

“What are your plans for the future?” Told you think conversation would come up.

“Well, Sir. I can’t answer that question completely. I’ll have several options after President Bartlet’s term, but Donna and I will have to choose what the best option is for us at the time.”

“What are those options?”

“I could teach political science at the college level, go into freelance consulting, work for a politician, work campaigns, write a book, work as a lawyer…”

“What would you choose if you were thinking only of yourself?”

“Honestly? I’d find a good, honest person and get them to the White House some day.”

“You don’t want to run for office yourself?”

“No, Sir. I’ve never wanted that.”

“What about my daughter. Will she always work for you?”

“I doubt it. I’d love it if she did, we’re an amazing team. But I think she wants to branch out. She doesn’t now because she knows what we do it once in a lifetime, but when we leave the White House, I think she’ll go off on her own professionally.”

“What about money? You don’t have to be rich, but can you provide for my daughter?”

“Yes Sir, I can.”

“You work too much. She needs someone who comes home at night to her and their family.” 

“Yes Sir, I agree. It’s not bad now because we’re doing it together, but when we don’t work together and when we have children, major changes will need to take place. That’s why I’m keeping my options open. Donna and I are going to have to find something that works for us as a family.”

“She can be stubborn.”

”Yes Sir.”

“She’s not the most confident person.”

“No Sir, but she’s so much more confident than she used to be. It’s really quite amazing to watch her grow.”

“When she loves, it’s with everything she has. She deserves that in return.”

“She has it from me, Sir.”

********** 

We get back from shopping, loaded down with anything and everything we can carry, and walk in to find the men watching football, drinking beer and napping. Josh, Anthony and Eric are in a heated discussion about the Packers and the Steelers, and my Dad is up pacing. Must be a close game.

An hour later, we’re packed and ready to go. Every thing is loaded in the Tahoe and everyone’s standing in the front yard to say goodbye to us. The women hug us like they’re never going to see us again, my mom cries, and my sister tells me to call when we get in. 

The men hug me and pat Josh on the back, actually calling him Josh, which is nice. My dad drives us to the airport and helps us bring our luggage inside to the United counter, then hugs me and turns to Josh.

He looks at him for a long time, then pulls him in and hugs him hard. “It was a pleasure meeting you Son. Welcome to the family.”


	25. Going to the Chapel

Thursday morning

"Do I have to get on my knees and beg?"

"Don't you think that would be a bit pathetic?"

"I think that would be extremely pathetic, but I'm willing to lower myself if it'll work."

"It won't."

I let my head fall. "Well then… I'm not going to do it."

She turns back to the mirror and continues combing her hair. "Ok." She's in the bathroom, quote unquote getting ready for work. And she's only wearing girly underwear and a sexy push-up bra. Now, if I'm not allowed to touch her, why the hell is she allowed to lead me on like that? I mean really, a man gets out of bed and walks into the bathroom and sees a mostly naked alabastered Donna brushing her hair, and he's not going to have a physical reaction to that?????

"How can you be so calm about this?" My eyes are fixated on her naked back even as I screech my sentence.

"It's only two days, Josh."

"Two more days, you mean."

"Yes."

"Because it's already been 29. 29 days Donna." Does she not feel the effects of this too?

"Josh, you went seven years without having sex with me."

I throw my hands up in the air. "Yes, but that was before I was addicted!" And my addiction is her fault, by the way. If she weren't so addictive this wouldn't be a problem.

"Addicted?"

"Donna, no one misses heroin until they take their first hit of it. Then they need it all the time." Duh.

She stops brushing and looks at me. And why would she do that? She knows how I feel about her hair. I barely even notice that I pick up the hairbrush and take over for her. "You're comparing me to heroin?"

"No. I'm comparing sex with you to heroin."

She looks at me in the mirror for a few seconds and I can hear the gears moving in her head. She's wondering if she should be offended by that statement. Finally she shrugs. "Well, two more days won't kill you."

I look at her very seriously. "It might." I've been warning her about this for months. When we went to my mom's and then to Cheeseland I told her. I could die. She chose not to believe me.

She turns to face me and puts her hand on my chest. She can't do that. I'll crack! "It'll make our wedding night special," she says, kissing me on the cheek. She's flirting. Not fair!

"It'll make our wedding night quick," I say, leaning in and nibbling on her neck.

"Maybe the first time," she says seductively. See? Flirt. "Donna," I groan while continuing the things I'm doing to her neck. A minute later I have an idea. I pull away and look at her with raised eyebrows. "What if I offer you an incentive?"

"What kind of incentive? And please be careful not to call me a prostitute."

A prostitute? "I was just thinking I could give you…oh."

"You were saying?"

I shake my head quickly back and forth. "Never mind."

"Smart man," she says smiling.

"This isn't fair, you know. You just announce one morning that we aren't having sex for a month? You should've at least given me advanced warning."

"So you could what, store it up?"

"Yes! Wait. No. I'm just saying. You don't cut someone off cold turkey. You should've weaned me off."

"Weaned you off?"

"Donna…" Now I've resorted to whining.

"Josh…"

"Why is the say all yours?"

She nods. "You have a good point."

Yes! I've won! "Thank you," I say, reaching around her back to unhook her bra.

But then she, being Judas and all, swats my hands away. "The next time I want to have sex and you don't, we won't have sex," she says  
calmly. Like that's ever gonna happen.

**********

Thursday Afternoon

"I need sex," Donna announces as she slips out of her jeans and t-shirt and looks at her dress hanging in the dressing room.

"Donna, I might be a modern girl, but I'm not that modern."

"CJ," she whines, "I'm not gonna make it. I'm gonna attack him on the alter, it's gonna be ugly."

"That's not a visual I need. I had eggs for breakfast. How's he doing?"

"He offered to get on his knees and beg this morning."

Josh Lyman, begging. Now that would be something to see. "And what did you say?"

She sighs and I zip up the dress. "I told him it wouldn't work. But it would've. It so would've."

"I'm proud of you Donna. Playing the strong one, even when you're weak. That's sisterhood stuff."

"Gee. I'm sexually frustrated, but at least I'm part of the sisterhood."

"Yeah, now you know how the rest of us feel. It's only two more days."

"Doesn't matter. I need him like heroin now."

"Heroin?"

"You don't want to know."

She turns around and I look at her. "You look beautiful."

She looks in the mirror and smiles a little bit. "Thanks."

***********

Friday evening

"Sam!" Donna yells excitedly as he walks into the bullpen. I'm almost certain she's never said my name with that much excitement. Well, at least not for the last 29 days.

"He's been here since yesterday, Donna. You had dinner with him last night."

She looks at me. I'm sorry, let me rephrase that. She glares at me. "Don't mind him Sam. He's just sexually frustrated."

"That's because I'm marrying Judas," I yell through the bullpen.

She completely ignores this statement and turns to him. "Not too drunk tonight Sam. I'm leaving you in charge of him. If any strippers are there, I don't want to know about it, so please take any underwear off his head."

Sam laughs. "No underwear on his head. Got it."

"He has staff at nine tomorrow morning. It's your job to see that he's here for it. And alive enough to carry on a conversation."

"You know I can hear you, right?"

She turns to me and smiles. "Yes."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Of course you don't." She turns back to Sam. "I'm going to be with CJ all night, so you're going to have to take care of him."

"Donna!" I screech.

She looks at me and puts on a level one pout. Not fair! Then she comes very close and puts her hand on my chest. "Too bad you're going out with Sam and Toby tonight. I was thinking…" she trails off and raises her eyebrows.

What? She was thinking that? "I'm not. I'm not going with them. They can go alone. I don't… I can… Let's go now." I take her by the hand and pull her towards the door. I don't have my keys, but we'll just  
break in to the car and then the apartment. We must go now.

"No thanks," she says cheerfully, pulling her hand from mine. I stare at her in shock. What the hell's going on?

"Donna?" I ask quietly.

"That's for calling me Judas," she says, turning around and heading towards CJ's office. "Have fun tonight."

Good thing to know some things aren't going to change.

**********

Friday Night

"Ok, ok, ok," says CJ, holding up her plastic glass of Boones. "It's time for party games." Tonight is my bachelorette party, as well as Josh's bachelor party. CJ, Ginger, Margaret, Carol, my sister, my sister-in-laws and I are renting Beaches, eating thin-crust cheese pizza, drinking Boones and giving each other Cosmo quizzes. To me, that's the end all be all of girl's nights. Strippers, bars, drunken  
idiots hitting on us. Not my scene.

"I thought we decided on no party games," I say, giving her a look of death.

She wiggles her eyebrows at me. "This one will be fun!" She hands everyone except me a piece of paper and a pen. "You are to answer these questions to the best of your ability. Once everyone is done,  
Donna will reveal the correct answers and you'll receive points based on how close you were."

I don't get to see the paper, but I hear a lot of chuckling, and I'm suddenly a bit scared. A few minutes later everyone's done and CJ is filling up everyone's glass. "Ok," she says, sitting back down next to me. "Number one: When was Donna sure Josh was the one?" Ok, that's not so bad.

People start giving their answers; "The day they met." "When he was shot." "Their first kiss."

"Donna?" CJ says to me.

I think about it for a second. "Hmm… I loved him almost immediately. But I don't think I knew he was the one until he was shot and I couldn't picture what I'd do without him for the rest of my life. When he had to live because I refused to be a widow before I was even married."

"Well, that was far too serious. I think you need more Boones," my sister-in-law says. CJ pours me another glass.

"Number 2," CJ says. "Speaking sexually only, when did Donna first want Josh?"

Again, people start giving their answers. The minute we met seems to be the most popular.

"We were at a fundraiser about three months after Donna started with us," Margaret says smugly. "Josh walked in the door talking to a donor, and he was wearing a tux. Donna almost dropped her glass of  
champagne."

I look at her. "You noticed that?"

She nods. "I did."

I smile and gesture towards her. "She's right. It was the first time I saw him in a tux."

"Good job Margaret," CJ yells. "Number three. What is the best tangible gift Josh has ever given her? Tangible people; it must be something she can hold, and get your mind out of the gutters, please."

This question has far more answers. "A book about skis," my sister yells. "She called me that night and went on and on about it as if it was a million dollars."

"The bracelet he got her when they started dating," Carol says, which makes CJ very proud of herself.

"Tickets to Aida," my sister-in-law says.

"Her engagement ring," my other sister-in-law says.

"Donna?" Carol says.

I smile widely. "His badge from the first campaign."

"You're such a freaking sap," CJ says. "Ok, let's move on the fun part. "Number four. What is Josh's best physical attribute?"

"Eyes." "Butt." "Arms." "Penis."

"I'm going to assume that whoever said that is only guessing," I say and everyone laughs. "And yes, his penis is spectacular. However, because it's easier to check out in mixed company, I'm going to say  
his butt." That earns me a round of wahoo's.

"Now we're getting somewhere," CJ says. "When is Josh the hardest to resist?" At the same time, everyone yells "when he uses his dimples." I just nod.

"Number seven. Where is the most outrageous place they've ever had sex. Of any kind?"

My face turns immediately red when Carol yells Josh's office and Margaret and my sister both agree.

"I'll have you know," I say boldly. "Josh and I have never had sex of any kind in the White House." Then I smile wickedly and add. "But if we ever did, it'd be in the Roosevelt Room. I like the idea of the glass doors." CJ's mouth drops open and she looks like she could be ill.

"So? Where is it then?" My sister asks.

"I'm not saying," I say, shaking my head.

"Come on!"

"Donna Moss. Spill. Now."

I hang my head. "Well, the shower at his mom's place was pretty risky. There was also the family restroom at the Madison airport and a rest area between here and Long Island, New Jersey. Also the butchers block in the kitchen."

Everyone looks at me for a minute. "Never in the White House?" CJ asks, dumbfounded.

I shrug. "Sorry."

***********

Saturday Evening

Why do we have to rehearse this? And why, if we have to rehearse this, can't we rehearse the wedding night. It only makes sense.

"Mr. Lyman. You stand here." Like I thought I'd be the one walking down the aisle.

"And don't fidget," CJ says to me.

"Donna, CJ's picking on me."

"Kids. No ice cream on the way home if we can't all behave."

"Gary, Donna's picking on me." Gary Moss and I are buddies now. Once I passed his test, I was in.

"Donna, don't pick on your fiancee." I look at him and smile then look at her and stick my tongue out. She just laughs and shakes her head.

"Ok, let's try a run through," the coordinator says. I stand off to the side while Sam seats my mom and then Toby seats Donna's mom. Then they come stand over to the side by me.

"Once the mother's are seated, Pachebel's Cannon will begin playing. I'll cue Mr. Lyman and his attendants." She gives us the cue and we walk into the room. My shoe comes untied and I bend over to tie it and Toby and Sam just leave me in the dust. A minute later I see Donna's sister walk down the aisle, and panicking, I run up and stand behind Toby. CJ follows Marie, and the coordinators shut the  
door, which I don't get because like fifteen seconds later, she opens it again and Donna and Gary walk down the aisle slowly. But when I see her, the only thing that goes through my head is that I'm going to marry that woman.

"Josh," says the coordinator.

I tear my eyes away from Donna. "Yes?"

"I would help, when Donna gets to the alter, if you're the one standing there waiting for her instead of Sam."

"Um… right." I move and stand in front of Sam and look back at Donna, now half way down the aisle. She's smiling at me and shaking her head. I guess we do need to rehearse this after all. I still  
don't see why we can't rehearse the wedding night, though.

**********

Sunday Morning

"CJ, please tell me I've packed well for this honeymoon."

"He still hasn't told you where you're going?"

"No. He says he'll tell me when we get to the airport in the morning. But we're staying here tonight, so if I need anything from the townhouse, we need to send someone for it now. I'm getting married in an hour." Donna, her mom, Marie, and I stayed in the honeymoon suite last night. It was nice. I mean nice. It's worth  
getting married just to spend the night here.

Hmmm…. To tell or not to tell, this is the question. "If you could pick anywhere to go, considering that it's February, where would you  
pick?"

"Hawaii or the Caribbean, obviously. It's all about the ocean, CJ."

"And did you pack for that?"

"Yes."

"Well, if I were you, I'd be confident in my fiancee's knowledge of what I'd like and therefore be confident in what I packed."

She gets a big grin on her face. "So which is it, the Caribbean or Hawaii?"

"My lips are sealed."

She stomps her foot like a six year old, which makes me laugh. "Aren't you on my team?"

"Donna, we've discussed this. Keeping these secrets and helping Josh out over the last few months was being on your team. He needed the supervision."

Just then, I hear a faint tapping on the door. I look at Donna, who shrugs, and we walk over to the door to the suite. I look out the peephole and see Josh standing in shorts, a Cure Autism Now t-shirt,  
and sandals. It's February, people.

"It's Josh," I whisper. He taps lightly again.

"What's he doing here?" she asks.

"I don't know. I forbid him from coming here today." I walk to the door and undo the deadbolt to kill my friend.

"Donna, is that you?" I stop before opening the door and stand there. "Shh… don't tell CJ I'm here. She'll hurt me." I look over at Donna and we both stifle a laugh. "If it's you, tap once."

Marie and Donna's mom walk into the room and we motion for them to be quiet. Then I tap once on the door and we all crowd around it and listen for Josh to whisper again.

"I know I'm not allowed to see you. I don't really understand why that is, because I'd guess that most men get nervous on their wedding day, and if I get nervous, you're the one I'm going to need to see. Plus, I'm pretty frustrated what with the 31 days I've gone without sex. Anyway, I can't stay, cause if CJ catches me here she'll kill me and if Toby or Sam catch me here, they'll tell CJ, but I just wanted to say good morning and I didn't really like waking up without you today and I'm glad I don't have to do that  
anymore and I love you and I'll see you in a few hours and I can't wait to be married to you and thank you for loving me and you look beautiful. I just…I might forget some of that stuff later what with  
the prospect of having sex, so I wanted to tell you now, and I wanted to say that I'm going to love you for the rest of my life and that I'm going to do everything I can to make you happy forever."

Now see, how am I supposed to kill him when he's being so cute?

**********

I sit here, looking at my amazing wife, and I can't help playing theword over and over in my head. I'm married. To Donna. Donnatella Moss-Lyman. I'm holding my wife's hand. For the rest of lives, being married to each other will be what we do. 

Sam stands up and clanks his glass. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please? As the best man, I'd like to say a few words." Everyone gets quiet and listens to him, and I pick up Donna's hand and kiss it.

"For being a man of words, I've found it difficult to fully express what Josh and Donna mean to each other in a Josh and Donna sort of way. I admit to going through several drafts. Then on Thursday, everything became clear to me. I was reminded of a time during the first campaign of President Bartlet. We were supposed to be on the road for five days and that turned into five and a half weeks. And then one Friday, Leo came to us and told us to get lost for the  
weekend. I'd recently broken up with my fiancé and had nowhere to go, so I came to DC for the weekend with Josh to sleep late, eat pizza and watch football. That was the plan. We got to his place at  
about 2:15 that morning with the intentions of sleeping until noon. However, when he opened the door to his apartment, a foul stench hit us in the face like a gust of wind. I can't even come close to  
expressing this smell, so I'll simply say that it was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before and one that has never completely left me since.

"It seems that when one thinks they're leaving town for five days, they don't clean out the fridge. And when that five days turns into five and a half weeks, the fridge fights back. It took us mere seconds to realize what the smell was, and in ten minutes every  
single thing in the fridge had been thrown out with the exception of two beers. Tupperware, condiments, everything else went. We couldn't risk it. We propped the windows and doors open, sprayed air freshener, even lit scented candles. Finally, we just wheeled the  
entire fridge out to the dumpster behind his apartment. Then, while drinking beer at 3:00 in the morning, a rodent walked into the apartment towards the smell. That's how bad the smell was. While  
sitting on his couch staring at what we think might have been a porcupine, Josh took a swig of beer and vowed to never have anything except BBQ sauce and Pepto-Bismol in his fridge again. Joking, I told him that someday he'd get married and would have to stock the fridge, and he looked at me hard, right in the eyes, and said to me, `I'll never love a woman that much.' Two weeks later, Donna started working for us.

"This past Thursday night I flew into town and went to Josh and Donna's for dinner. When I went to the fridge for a beer, I noticed that it was fully stocked. See, I could say a million things about  
their love, but what amazes me about these two is that a stocked refrigerator says it all. Please join me in congratulating the happy couple."

Everyone raises their glasses and toasts us, and Donna looks at me and smiles. "You didn't even put up much of a fight," she whispers and kisses me softly.

"And now," says Sam, "I'd like to give my beautiful counterpart, Claudia Jean Cregg, the floor for a moment."

CJ stands up. "Thank you Samuel." Then she looks at me. "That actually explains a lot." Donna laughs and snuggles up to me and CJ looks out at our guests. "When Donna asked me to be her maid of  
honor, I immediately went to Toby and asked him to help me write a toast. He refused, however. He told me to simply look at them and the right words would present themselves.

"I don't think there's a person in this room who hasn't seen this day coming for years or who doesn't have complete confidence that these two people will find a way to beat the odds and make it. We've  
all seen them grow, seen them stumble, seen them stand by each other through every thing. We watched a young girl blossom into this confident, astonishing woman with the help of this man, and we watched a machine of a person turn into this amazing man with the help of this woman. And all of this without ever using words. The confidence they have in each other blows me away. I used to look at them and wonder. How can two people be so sure without words? How can promises be made without ever being spoken? How can you absolutely believe in a love that's never been proclaimed? And how can a love be so deep that words aren't needed?

"I don't know how. But I know it can be. I've witnessed it. I've seen it in a hospital waiting room in Donna's eyes and I've heard it outside the oval office in the desperation of Josh's voice. When the  
fear of losing the other was so intense that every feeling was laid bare and they simply didn't have the strength to hide it, there it was. A love so deep that words weren't needed. A promise made without a sound.

"Ladies and gentlemen. To this amazing love. To these amazing people. To a lifetime together. Congratulations."


End file.
